The Gifted
by xxemily92xx
Summary: Being shipped off to Elrond's Academy for The Gifted was bad enough, let alone coming to terms with powers, making new friends, surviving brutal phys ed lessons, fights and getting the attention of the most emotionally constipated guy he knows. Add to that a cursed ring and the revival of the greatest evil the modern world has ever known and Bilbo will just be happy to survive. AU
1. The Train

Hey guys! Just thought I would let everyone know I'm mixing some stuff up- this ones definitely an au!  
Dis is now the eldest, with a large age gap between her and Thorin (now 17)  
fili and kili are twins (both 16) they still call Thorin uncle though 'cos they know it annoys him  
dori, oin, bombur and balin are all older (20 and up) but definitely still have a place in the story  
basically everyones human-ish  
if any of these are huge deal breakers let me know- I am open to moving things around. No flames though and please be supportive; first time ficcing the hobbit.  
that aside, enjoy :)

Also: don't own anything!

/

Bilbo Baggins closed his eyes, shivering slightly before huddling back into his coat. His neck and back ached from the stiff red seat of the train, fabric faded and torn from age or neglect, he didn't really care which. Resting his head against the window, the cool pane of glass against his cheek was a stark reminder of where he was.

Of what he was.

The gifted made up around 15% of the world's population; individuals possessing strange powers and abilities. These abilities made themselves known on a teenagers 15th birthday. Most inherit the anomaly from their parents and are raised accordingly, though a small unlucky 3% are born to normal parents.

Three guesses which percentage Bilbo had landed in.

Things between the gifted and normal population were strained at best, and he flinched as his father's disappointed expression flitted through his mind. A lump formed in his throat.

Sighing heavily, the teenager watched his breath fog over the glass dismally. What he wouldn't give to be back at the shire, complaining about homework or avoiding his younger cousins. Even Lobelia Sackville would be a welcome sight. Shaking his head resolutely he straightened in his seat, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfying click.

Dark times indeed if he was wishing to see Lobelia.

Voices filtered through from the front of the compartment as the door slid open. Running a hand through his hair (had it always felt so unruly?) Bilbo straightened, hoping he didn't look as pathetic as he felt. Two teenage boys walked through talking animatedly and laughing loudly. His insides gave a familiar twitch and he focused on calming his nerves, breathing slowly and deeply. He supposed he was getting good at this now, and the thought brightened him somewhat.

Turning back to the front of the carriage, neither boy was to be seen. Bilbo shrugged to himself, staring out the window once more. The blonde and brunette looked like trouble anyway, and he was hoping to stand out as little as possible when he finally reached the academy.

_I guess my gift makes sense then, _he thought drily. There went his (almost) good mood.

A hand descended on each of his shoulders and he bit back a shriek. Two grinning faces appeared on either side, the boys from earlier leaning over the back of his seat.

Bilbo had only a moment to be proud of himself for his control before the brunette one slid onto the frayed cushion beside him, grinning widely.

"Can I...uh...help you...?" he asked, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat. Catching the action, the boy across from him grinned wider.

"Don't tell me we're the first?! I thought for sure the others would be here by now!" he exclaimed, glancing around the compartment.

"Except Thorin. You know he'll be late _again_," The blonde said, and the two snorted in amusement. Bilbo shifted in his seat uneasily.

"Yes...well I, uh, assure you I have no idea-"

"Oh! How rude of us, we haven't even introduced ourselves!" The brunette exclaimed, and the blonde swung over the back of the seat to perch beside him.

"Kili-"

"And Fili-"

"At your service," they finished together, bowing their heads.

Bilbo blinked stupidly at them for a moment, feeling a tad overwhelmed. Definitely brothers if the dual talking was anything to go on. Strange introduction aside, Fili and Kili seemed friendly enough.

"Bilbo Baggins at yours," he replied warily, fighting the urge to squirm under the weight of the boys stares.

"So are you a first year? Whats your gift? Do you think you'll be alpha or beta?" The brunette (Kili, he amended) asked rapidly, eyes wide in curiosity. Bilbo felt the tingling come back to his insides and he tugged at the sleeve of his jacket again. Fili smacked him lightly over the back of the head, rolling his eyes.

"You're doing it again Kee," he chastened, and Kili rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Sorry Mr Boggins-"

"Baggins-"

"Buggins-"

"_Baggins-"_

"Right, sorry _Boggins-" _Kili stressed with a grin and Bilbo huffed, "are you a first year?"

Bilbo chewed his bottom lip for a moment, his sense of melancholy returning. Honestly, he was surprised it had left at all.

"Yes, this is my first year. I've no idea what to expect really," he admitted. Fili cocked his head to the side.

"Which academy did your parents go to?" The question was innocent enough, but Bilbo felt his insides freeze.

"Uh...they attended...uhm..." he mumbled out, wishing he knew the name of at least one other academy. Cursing himself inwardly for his stupidity, he was saved from answering by the sound of the door.

"Dwalin!" the two chorused, turning to the large (and was he really a teenager?!) boy who sank into the seat opposite. Broad shoulders, a dark mohawk and gruff demeanor all marked him as someone Bilbo would have happily avoided, thankyou very much, but as the boy turned to him his eyes were kind.

"Don't know how ya got stuck between these two terrors but god I feel for ya," he muttered, shaking his head.

Twin indignant squawks of "Oi!" and "Hey!" were interrupted as the door slid open again, revealing three teenagers. The first was quite scrawny and sporting scruffy brown hair, quietly taking a seat beside Dwalin with a smile that was returned. The second one nodded to everyone cheerfully, wool hat clutched to his chest and smiling widely. Behind him, a boy with his hair raised in three points smirked. He reminded Bilbo of a starfish.

"That's Bofur, and the other two are Ori and Nori," Fili murmured, nodding to each of them.

"Dwalin and Nori are both second years but Ori and Bofur are first years like us," Kili added.

Glancing around the now rapidly filling compartment, Bilbo stared at the brothers warily. The entire seat opposite was crowded, teenagers sitting shoulder to shoulder and all competing to be heard, leaving his ears ringing slightly.

"Just how many more are there? And why _this_ compartment?" he asked, knowing there were a good dozen or so empty ones scattered throughout the carriage. The vast majority of the students could be found in the previous two carriages, so Bilbo had chosen somewhere he could be alone.

"Almost everyones here," Fili said with a grin in response to Bilbo's unamused expression.

"You still haven't explained why-" Again the teen was cut off as the door opened, revealing another broad shouldered student with thick ginger hair, followed by-

"I-is that an…?"

"An axe? Yup."

"…but its…"

"Yup."

"Ah." Bilbo mumbled quietly, trying not to be rude. It really wasn't every day you saw a teenage boy with the metal head of an axe lodged in his forehead. The boy spoke gibberish, signing constantly while the others greeted him.

"Meet Gloin and Bifur," Kili pointed out, and Bilbo simply nodded.

Clutching his coat closer, Bilbo shifted as far along as the old seat would allow, wincing at the creak it made when the other two boys sat down. Sighing he stared out the window again, starting slightly as he realized it was dark outside.

As one, Fili and Kili rose to their feet, and the others glanced up at them in interest.

"So, since we know you-know-who is probably lost again-" Fili began.

"-and will take forever to get here-" Kili added, as a snort of laughter went through the group.

"We wanted to introduce our new friend Bilbo," Fili finished, gesturing to the wide eyed teenager against the window.

"Bilbo Boggins," Kili corrected, grinning at his brother.

"_Baggins!_" Bilbo all but snapped, embarrassment lost in the surge of irritation. Fili shot his brother an approving look. The others looked to the twins curiously, Ori with his head tilted in confusion.

"It's an inside joke, you guys wouldn't understand," Kili said casually, nose in the air.

"We met half an hour ago!"

"And now look at us; already we're the best of friends! Isn't that right Fili?"

"The closest of friends," Fili agreed seriously, lips twitching faintly as he struggled not to smile.

Bilbo halfheartedly glared at the boys, but couldn't find it in him to actually be angry. He had a feeling they had the potential for much worse, if their grins were anything to go by.

"You never did say what your gift was?" Kili asked after a moment, and something must have shown on his face as the teen hastily attempted to backtrack. "Not that you need to tell us or anything…uh…'cos you know its none of our business and Mum is always on my case about being too-"

"Annoying?" offered Dwalin as Kili pouted.

"No-"

"Irritating?" added Gloin.

"No!"

Bifur made a quick series of signs, hands almost moving too fast for Bilbo to keep up before the others roared with laughter. Kili spluttered, pink creeping onto his cheeks.

"That's just uncalled for!" the brunette cried, and Bilbo fought the urge to chuckle. Slowly, the ball of nerves that was his insides began to loosen.

A buzz sounded, and Kili dug his mobile out of his pocket. The soft glow of the screen lit up his features, casting a bluish tinge to his face. Grinning widely, deft fingers tapped out a quick message before dropping the device back into his jacket.

Bilbo barely had time to wonder at the message before the door was slid open once more.

"Uncle Thorin! You finally made it," Fili exclaimed. A boy with a long grey coat nodded to the others in the room, a mobile resting in one hand. His long, dark hair was pulled back from his face revealing a strong jawline. He couldn't place it, but Bilbo thought something about the youth gave him an almost regal air.

"I thought you said this place was easy to find? I got lost twice," he grumbled, voice a deep baritone.

"It's in the same place every time we catch this godforsaken piece of crap," Dwalin growled, rolling his eyes. Ori elbowed him gently in the ribs and the larger teen pouted.

"It's not that bad, you big sook," the smaller boy chided, holding the other's hand.

_Opposites attract, I suppose…_Bilbo thought, flinching as it indirectly made him think of his own parents. He swallowed thickly, straightening in his seat and pulling his coat closer. The movement seemed to remind the twins he was there, and Kili shot him a grin.

"This is Bilbo, Uncle," Fili gestured with a smile, and Thorin seemed to notice him for the first time.

Bilbo barely heard him as piercing blue eyes locked onto his own green ones. A buzzing sounded in his ears as his stomach tingled with nerves, the weight of the other's gaze making him feel very small.

"…Uncle?"

His breath caught in his throat as the now familiar sensation of falling swept over him. Blue eyes narrowed slightly before widening in surprise. Bilbo felt as if his skin was burning, a constant tingle running over his limbs.

_Oh no no no no-_

Several gasps of surprise rang out and Bilbo felt himself flush. He fought the urge to cover his face in his hands, focusing instead on his breathing. The world around him faded to grey and the shapes of his fellow students shifted blearily, as if he were underwater. Shuddering slightly, he squeezed his eyes closed.

Slowly, Bilbo became visible again.

"That's really cool," Kili murmured, and Nori let out a low whistle. Bilbo kept his eyes firmly on his lap, clenching his fists and shrugging further into his coat. He was certain the others could feel the heat radiating from his face.

"So, this is the new student. Tell me, Mr Baggins, have you done much training?" Thorin asked, leaning on the door frame. Bilbo stared stubbornly at the frayed hem of his coat, willing away the flush that stained his face.

"I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a gifted," he drawled to the others, crossing his arms. A couple of chuckles went up at that, and Bilbo flinched as movement caught his eye.

Stopping directly in front of him, Thorin placed a hand on his shoulder. Glancing up in surprise, Bilbo stared at him in confusion.

"And that is exactly why you're here."

Behind the dark haired teen, Fili and Kili were grinning down at him.

All his life, the 15 year old had been told what being gifted meant.

Freaks.

Mutations.

Unnatural.

Different.

Staring into the faces of the youths who surrounded him, he had the brief thought that maybe he had a chance to belong here.

And so for the first time since his 15th birthday, cramped in an old compartment with torn and faded seats, Bilbo smiled.

/

So let me know what you guys think :) As always, please review and stick to constructive criticism; im seriously a marshmallow when it comes to my writing ^^*

And remember- AU


	2. The Academy

"So…you turn invisible when you're scared?" Ori asked curiously, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees in interest. Bilbo shrugged, leaning back against the window in an effort to get comfortable.

"Scared or embarrassed," he confirmed, stubbornly ignoring the twist of nerves in his belly. The undivided attention of ten teenagers will do that to you, he supposed.

"Reminds me a little of Bif, remember last year?" Bofur piped up, elbowing Bifur in the ribs. The older teen frowned, nodding reluctantly. Nori shot the boy a grin.

"Aye, I remember. Every time the poor guy sneezed he shifted by accident," he snorted in amusement, ignoring the rapid-fire gibberish and hand signals being shot in his direction.

Bilbo frowned somewhat in confusion, glancing between the others. Against the door frame Thorin straightened, stuffing his mobile inside his long jacket.

"Bifur's gift is shifting part or all of his body," he explained, nodding toward the teen.

Bilbo's mouth made a small 'o' in understanding and the older teen glanced away, casually scuffing a dark grey boot against the frayed and stained carpet. Bilbo blinked in confusion at the sudden change, but before he could even think of something to say (and really, what could he say anyway?), Bifur stood, massaging his knuckles with a soft crack. He shrugged out of his jacket, chucking it unceremoniously onto the threadbare cushion behind him.

All at once his form seemed to ripple, as if water was running down his body. The boys arm elongated, bones snapping and grinding as they grew in size. Dark, black hair matted and grew as wickedly sharp claws erupted out of the skin, skin which began to turn leathery and grey.

With a smirk Bifur flexed the new appendage, the long spindly limb almost twice as long as his other arm. Hard planes of muscle moved smoothly beneath the skin.

Bilbo's eyes widened in amazement, glancing between the other boy's smug face and the lethal looking claws. The weak lighting of the compartment only added to the effect, and Bilbo had the fleeting thought that this could be a horror movie of sorts.

"Th-that's incredible!" he exclaimed, genuinely impressed. Bifur shot him a wide grin while Kili rolled his eyes.

"Pssh, you just wait until you see _our _gifts, Bilbo-"

"No," Thorin interrupted firmly. Both twins shot him identical expressions of dismay as the older teen held up a hand. "You're still both first years; knowing you two the train may not survive."

"But Uncle-" both exclaimed at the same time, pouting now. Thorin's eye twitched in what could only be aggravation.

"Stop calling me that it makes me seem old-"

"You _are _old-" Kili shot back.

"There's only a year between us!"

"Why have you already got greys then?" Fili muttered, and Thorin bristled.

"I do _not _have greys."

Before the twins could retort the shrill scream of the train whistle sounded, as the locomotive lurched to a stop.

Bifur's skin rippled once more as he shifted back to normal, sitting back onto the seat beside the others. The twins and their uncle stumbled slightly, the sudden movement sending Fili tripping forward unexpectedly. In a swift movement Thorin steadied him, rolling his eyes and shooting his nephew an exasperated look. Fili grinned back sheepishly.

"Lets move. I don't want to have to sit next to that Thranduil asshole again," Thorin muttered.

"Thranduil?" Bilbo asked curiously, straightening from his seat. He winced at the protest his muscles gave at the movement, back and neck aching uncomfortably.

Thorin scowled deeply, as if he had bitten into something sour. Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, _Thranduil,_" he spat, turning to slide open the door. The metal clanged loudly with the force as the 16 year old stomped into the corridor. Bilbo was left blinking in confusion as the twins shook their heads, gesturing to leave him be.

"Long story, don't worry about it," Bofur assured, cramming his wool hat onto his head and stepping out the door, smiling all the while. The others filed past, chatting amicably amongst themselves, excitement evident in their expressions. The twins practically bounced on their heels.

All too soon Bilbo was in the once again empty compartment.

_This is it,_ he thought to himself nervously. This was the moment he had been dreading, the moment he truly became a gifted. The second he stepped out of this compartment everything changed.

"_Sometimes we're swept off our feet. We might lose something in the process, and it might be scary. We might miss our life before or we might lose who we used to be," here she paused, smiling at the young boy with messy auburn curls. "…or, we could find more than we dreamed possible. It is only through looking that anything can be found, my boy." The young boy furrowed his eyebrows in thought, glancing fearfully up at her._

"_And what if I don't find anything?" She smiled softly down at him, emerald eyes filled with warmth._

"_And what if you do?"_

Bilbo scrubbed a hand over his eyes, the memory of his mother leaving the usual ache in his chest. Three years on and he still missed her terribly. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo allowed the memory to bolster his resolve, squaring his shoulders.

He could do this.

"Oi, Boggins are you coming or not?" Kili's voice floated back to him from outside the compartment, his head appearing in the door a moment later.

Glancing once more around the old compartment, Bilbo nodded, shrugging his coat closer and stepping through the sliding door.

The hallway was absolute mayhem.

Bilbo flinched as he was almost shoved back into the compartment by the sheer number of bodies all shoving and attempting to get past. Two pairs of hands steadied him as the twins grinned down at him. Glancing up, he realised the others had waited for him and immediately felt warmth blossom in his chest.

Even Thorin stood there, arms crossed and dark expression ensuring the other students left a bubble of space around him. Nodding to him, Dwalin stepped forward, Ori at his back as the group managed to push and shove their way into the throng.

Beside him, Nori smirked and stepped backwards against the wall, winking cheekily before his body melted into his own shadow. Bilbo gasped softly in surprise as the black shape stretched long and thin, shooting along the wall and out the door at the end of the carriage.

"Show off," muttered Gloin as he pushed his way forward.

Moments later the group of teens stumbled through the exit, Bilbo inhaling the crisp mountain air greedily. It had been hard to breathe crammed in with so many others at once, his usual nervousness not helping.

Ahead of them students were splitting into three different streams while adults he assumed were staff attempted to establish order.

"We'd best move our asses; I heard second years report to Saruman this year," Nori said from behind them, making Bilbo jump slightly.

Thorin sighed and Dwalin groaned. Ori offered him a soft pat on the arm in sympathy, small smile on his face.

"Find Gandalf, I think he's in charge of first years this time," Thorin paused, narrowing his eyes at the twins, "Stay out of trouble, we'll meet you after the testing." Both boys grinned at him innocently, and he rolled his eyes. Nodding to Bilbo, Ori and Bofur he turned on his heel and jogged to catch up to the other second year boys.

"It's like he doesn't trust us at all," Fili complained, walking in the opposite direction.

"Should he?" Bilbo couldn't help but ask, and the answering smirks he received made him shudder.

"Probably not," the boys said in tandem.

Ahead of them, an elderly man was herding students into the building behind him. Tall and with a long grey beard, the man sported dull grey robes and walking stick. Bilbo wondered vaguely if the man was senile; his wardrobe certainly seemed to hint it. Sharp blue eyes caught onto him, and the teenager shivered at the intelligence that seemed so stark in the man's gaze.

Not senile then.

"First years this way please," he called pleasantly, eyes pausing on Bilbo before eventually looking away.

_That must be Gandalf_, he reasoned, glancing at the teacher over his shoulder on the way past.

A tall stone archway stood in front of them, leading to the largest building Bilbo had ever seen. Beautiful sweeping walkways and high ceilings took his breath away, lush green gardens thriving throughout the halls and in front of each room.

High above, written in thick metal letters the words '_Elrond's Academy for The Gifted'_ scrawled along the archway. Bilbo felt almost dizzy at the sheer size of the place.

The piercing whistle of the train sounded as it moved away, and Bilbo spun to watch it slowly meander away from the academy. Breathing deeply, he allowed himself to be dragged forward by the twins.

Ori and Bofur wandered behind the three, Ori looking almost ill and Bofur smiling unworriedly.

"Are you alright Ori?" Bilbo asked as the other boy paled further. For a moment he worried he would be sick.

"J-just a ittle nervous. Dwalin doesn't think I should worry, but I know I'll be in Beta. Both Nori and my older brother Dori were Alpha…" he trailed off, tugging at the hem of his sweater.

"Alpha and Beta?" Bilbo wondered aloud, and Bofur shrugged.

"It's not really a big deal; people with strong or destructive powers are sorted into Alpha. The rest of us with weaker or powers that aren't tangible are sorted into Beta. Lord Elrond himself would be in Beta, being a seer and all. Students just use it as an excuse to get competitive or cocky," he explained.

"Alpha students can compete with each other in matches, usually in pairs. Sometimes Beta students compete but it doesn't happen very often," Fili explained, looking over his shoulder at the others.

"I heard they were messing with the curriculum this year though," Kili interjected, "no idea why _now_ but I've heard the staff are super fickle."

The small group came upon a tall set of oak doors where the other first years hovered, some clearly nervous and others bored.

Gandalf strolled up to the group, a couple of stragglers in front of him. Tapping on the door with his stick (the wood was too large and gnarled for a cane, perhaps a staff instead?),the doors opened from within without so much as a creak.

A tall man with a long white beard and dark eyes stared out at them, slowly sauntering forward. He was clad in a crisp ivory coat, long white hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Where Gandalf's eyes were sharp with wit, this man's eyes were cold and hard.

"Ah, Saruman. I had thought you were guiding the second years tonight?" Gandalf asked, though his voice didn't sound surprised.

Saruman raised an eyebrow, stepping forward until he was in line with the other man.

"Indeed I was. Until Elrond decided my expertise would be better spent here," Saruman murmured lowly, annoyance lacing his tone. Gandalf simply nodded, though amusement lit his eyes.

Turning to the rest of the students, Saruman gestured to the doors with a flick of his wrist. Slowly, the students streamed into the room.

Bilbo tried again not to gape as he stared at an odd area sunk into the center of the marble floor, utterly at odds with the rest of the room. Roughly the size of a basketball court, the expanse had a myriad of strange objects, from piles of metal to rocks and bodies of water. The four of them pushed through to the front of the crowd, directly beside the field.

Saruman strode forward, stepping onto a small podium in front of the strange court. Gandalf seemed to have vanished altogether, and the doors slammed closed with a resounding bang.

"As most of you are aware, I am Saruman Whyte, though you may simply refer to me by my first name as the academy policy dictates. This," he swept a hand behind him, "is the practice arena. We of course have a much larger facility than this in the main gymnasium, but I assure you this will be sufficient," he drawled, seeming bored. "When I call your name, step forward. Show me your gift using the arena if you must, and then get out of the way. I certainly have enough of you to test before the nights out."

Frowning, Bilbo looked around the room. At least he wasn't the only one left off-kilter by the dismissive tone, the addition of which only grated on his nerves further.

"Azog," he called out, and a large, muscled pale boy stepped forward. He glared viciously at Bilbo, shouldering him and several other students out of his way. Kili and Fili steadied him, glaring daggers back at the larger teen.

"Asshole," Ori muttered, and Bilbo blinked in surprise for a moment at the curse from the smaller boy.

Hopping down to the arena easily, the boy smirked at them.

"Begin," Saruman ordered.

Breathing deeply, Azog spread his hands out, palms up on either side of his body. The lights above began to flicker violently, and a dark shape began to take form in front of him.

Thick, black tendrils of shadow licked up from the ground, swirling together. Azog grinned, wide and feral as a snarl rang through the air, lifting all the hairs on the back of Bilbo's neck. Slowly, the tendrils began to coagulate, oozing into a large shape that came up to the boys shoulder.

The ooze congealed and hardened, as thick white fur sprouted and wickedly curved claws burst through. Bilbo was reminded of Bifur's shifted arm this morning, though he had felt no fear at the time.

Now, as the monstrous wolf-like creature threw its head back in a bone chilling howl, muscles bunching and long canines exposed, Bilbo felt fear.

And when it barrelled towards him, Bilbo felt terror.


	3. The Sickbay

"Enough!" Saruman snapped, throwing a hand out.

Bilbo gasped, staring at the wispy and flowing grey figure of the creature, jaws centimetres from his face.

Its putrid breath washed over him, the stench of death and decay making him sick. He was close enough to see the black grime within its mouth and fangs, and the yellow of its eyes as it glared at him. Bilbo froze in shock.

_It could still see him._

Saruman threw the beast across the room with a sweep of his hand, a loud yelp sounding before it vanished leaving a dark black mark scorched against the otherwise pristine marble.

Bilbo felt the blood drain from his face as he focused enough to reappear.

The twins, Ori and Bofur all rushed to him at once, and he struggled to keep the wave of nausea down. An odd buzzing sounded in his ears, and it took him a moment to realise they were speaking.

"Bilbo! Are you ok?"

He looked up at them for a moment, nodding briefly. Abruptly, the world seemed to shift on its axis.

"Nope," he gasped, before everything faded to black.

/

The first thing he noticed was the scent of disinfectant, and he scrunched his face up in annoyance. Blearily, Bilbo opened his eyes and winced at the bright light that met him.

The walls were ivory, and the room held such a sterile feel that Bilbo was certain he was in some kind of sick bay. He groaned, running a hand over his face in exasperation.

"You're awake," a deep voice stated, and Bilbo started in surprise.

In the thin plastic chair to the left of his bed sat Thorin, one leg crossed over the other, looking for all the world as though he were on a throne. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, two small braids Bilbo hadn't noticed before framing his face.

It wasn't until the older boy rose an eyebrow at him that Bilbo realised he was staring like an idiot.

"Uh yes, yes I am…I uh…what happened?" he scrambled to ask, flinching as he realised how stupid he sounded.

Smooth Baggins, very smooth.

Thorin's face darkened slightly and he clenched his fists. Bilbo blinked in surprise.

"You were attacked by that filth Bolg's little brother, Azog."

Bilbo sucked in a breath as the memory returned, the huge white beast snarling and staring right through him. He felt the blood rush from his face and he shivered, despite the blankets piled over him.

"I remember," he mumbled to his lap, and beside him Thorin sighed.

"That was several hours ago now. Kili, Fili, Ori and Bofur all refused to leave your side- I had to convince them I would stay instead or they never would have gone for dinner," he finished, the corners of his lips twisting as if fighting a smile.

Bilbo felt a surge of affection for them, and he smiled widely.

"I know you all only just met me, but somehow I feel…I dunno…" he trailed off, flushing slightly. Thorin levelled him with a knowing look.

"Like you belong?"

Bilbo glanced up sharply in surprise, and Thorin met his gaze shrewdly. He felt the inside of his stomach squirm with butterflies, and he nodded hesitantly.

"Your parents are normal, aren't they?"

Bilbo instantly felt himself freeze up, heart hammering in his chest in shock. The butterflies were replaced by a sick churning tension that made it hard to breathe.

Oh god, he _knew._

Bilbo looked back down at his lap, picking at the fraying edges of the sickbay blanket. A small thrill of fear surged through him and a lump formed in his throat.

"Yes," he mumbled after a moment, ignoring the sinking and tingling of his insides. Thorin said nothing, merely stared at him, eyes searching.

"Why did you bother hiding it?" he asked, and now Bilbo could hear the scorn in his voice.

The writhing feeling inside his stomach doubled and he had to focus on breathing for a moment before he became invisible. Dimly, he realised his hands were shaking.

"I…I don't…" he stammered, and dammit why could he never think of anything to say? "I'm sorry…I should, um…" he made to move off the bed, not daring to meet the other's hard stare.

"Don't do it again," Thorin said softly, and Bilbo swung his eyes up to the 16 year old in surprise.

Sharp cobalt had softened, becoming almost molten.

"I- I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't do it again," he repeated, "Don't try to hide who you are, you hold back far too much. Stop apologising," he said firmly. Bilbo felt his jaw go slack in shock, before clenching it with a click.

Thorin stepped forward, closer into his space and Bilbo fought the urge to shrink under the blanket.

"Do you have any idea what Bofur's gift is?"

Bilbo blinked stupidly for a moment, train of thought utterly derailed. Before he could say anything, Thorin stepped closer again, eyes narrowed.

"Intuition," he continued, voice softer. "Bofur's gift is intuition- he senses things, things humans shouldn't be able to. We were _meant_ to meet that day on the train," he finished, his voice strong with conviction.

Bilbo stared back at him, emerald eyes wide. A tense moment passed, before a soft knocking cut through the silence like a knife.

Before either boy could say anything further, an older man entered the small room, door creaking closed at his back. Smiling widely at them, he seemed to have no idea of the tension that hung around the room.

His thick hair was dark, streaks of silver shooting through it. Bilbo was oddly reminded of Gloin, and wondered fleetingly if they were related.

Thorin took a step back (and had he really been that close?), crossing his arms gruffly. Bilbo sat up straighter in the bed, running a hand through his curls self-consciously.

"My name is Oin; I'm the main healer at the Academy," he said cheerily, striding forwards to rest a hand on his arm.

The teen blinked at the hand in confusion. Glancing at Thorin, the other boy continued to stare intently at the opposite wall, glaring at the faded anatomical posters as if they had done him personal insult. Bilbo felt a sharp chill and, with a start, realised the healer's hand was glowing green.

"And…all good," Oin muttered to himself, releasing the teen's arm as the green glow faded. "You're free to go."

"Thankyou," Bilbo said, but Oin continued out the door without looking up, whistling to himself.

"I think you'll find the healer quite deaf," Thorin murmured, scuffing his boot on the marble floor with forced casualness.

"Ah, I see," Bilbo replied, wincing at just how _awkward_ the room had suddenly gotten.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stepped down onto the floor. The cold against his feet almost stung, and he quickly threw on his shoes. Thorin uncrossed his arms, pulling his coat closer and heading toward the door.

Glancing over his shoulder, he raised his eyebrows in a universal 'coming or not?' gesture, and Bilbo didn't miss that his eyes were fixed on his shoulder.

Straightening, Bilbo nodded and followed him into the main medical building and through the doors into the outer hall.

The leaves and flowers of the garden swayed softly, a small breeze moving through the hall. Ahead of him, Thorin lead him in a random direction, twisting and turning through the corridors. Bilbo shivered, rubbing his arms at the crisp mountain air and glancing left and right. None of it seemed to look familiar.

"You…uh, you know where you're going right?" he asked hesitantly, remembering the train. Thorin snorted, running a hand along the wall as they walked, fingertips barely brushing against the smooth stone.

"I've never lost my way here," he said after a moment, dropping his hand back to his side. Bilbo stared curiously at his back, but the other teen either didn't notice or ignored him.

A stairwell spiralled in front of him, leading down into the ground. Bilbo glanced at him questioningly, and Thorin rolled his eyes.

"This is the first year boy's dorm, I think Beta is on the left?" he explained, though it sounded more like a question.

"So I was sorted into Beta," Bilbo said flatly, and Thorin nodded. Turning to leave, the taller boy paused, glancing over at him.

"Are you…disappointed?"

Bilbo paused, thinking for a moment. Eventually, he shrugged.

"I'm not sure, to tell you the truth. I think…perhaps I'm ok with it. Ori had seemed upset at the notion," he murmured.

"I'm…glad," he said after a beat, shrugging. "I'll uh…see you at breakfast," he murmured, nodding to him before walking back the way he came.

"Hey Thorin?" Bilbo called out, and the older teen looked back over his shoulder. "Thanks for…well you know," he gestured uselessly, flushing slightly, "for everything."

Thorin's eyes widened for a second before hurriedly staring at the ground, squaring his shoulders. He nodded gruffly, and Bilbo smiled. The younger teen turned to the stairs, hand brushing the stone rail.

"Goodnight, Thorin," he called over his shoulder, the sound of his worn sneakers against the stone floor fading away into the stairwell.

For a long moment Thorin stood there, well after the soft footfalls were drowned out by the sound of his own heart beating frantically in his chest.

"Goodnight," he mumbled to the empty hall.

/

The next morning was an intense affair, and Bilbo wished he had the chance to eat more than the two meagre pieces of toast he had grabbed. Thorin had (for once, apparently) led him to the right dorm the night before, having found both of his small bags next to a single bunk.

After Bilbo had been rushed to the sickbay Saruman had forced the other students to finish their testing regardless, though stern words on conduct were spoken. The testing had only taken an hour or so, each student eager to attend dinner and many unnerved by the incident with Azog.

Bofur and Ori had been placed in Beta, to Ori's chagrin. Bofur hadn't minded in the least, taking the news with his usual calm contentment.

Fili and Kili were sorted into Alpha, much to their delight.

"See Uncle, now you get to see more of us!" Kili exclaimed enthusiastically, throwing an arm over Thorin's shoulder.

"Just think of the possibilities!" Fili added. "We can train together-"

"Eat together-,"

"Study together,-"

"Play together,-"

"Mmph!"

Thorin clamped a hand over his nephew's mouth, successfully predicting which would talk next. Fili struggled for a moment before Thorin finally released him.

"His Majesty isn't much of a morning person," Kili whispered to Bilbo. Thorin's eye twitched and he flicked a salt shaker at the younger teen with a scowl. Kili squeaked in surprise, just catching it before it hit him in the face.

"_His_ _Highness_ thinks he can whisper, but it's really a quiet scream," he growled back, stabbing at his bacon and eggs. Kili pouted and Fili rubbed his back soothingly, muttering about cruel uncles and mistreatment.

It seemed Thorin was over whatever the night before had been, and Bilbo was glad to see his friend was alright and no longer so awkward.

Shaking his head, Bilbo had just finished his toast when he felt eyes on his back. Twisting in his seat, he glanced around the dining hall.

The room was enormous, with a number of large wooden tables in rows, each able to hold a good 15 or so students. The ceiling arched up far above them, intricate leaf designs carved into the rock and spiralling down pillars around the hall. Bilbo stiffened in his seat, appetite vanishing.

Two tables away Azog glared at him, eyes narrowed and leaning forward. Conversation at his table came to a lull and the others he sat with seemed to notice who he was looking at. One of his friends held a hand daintily to his head, pretending to swoon.

Bilbo quickly spun around, flushing lightly. Gloin, having noticed the exchange, threw a rude gesture to the other table with a sneer.

"Bastards, if I had my axe…Ignore them, they thrive on the attention lad," the ginger haired teen growled to Bilbo.

"Your axe?" he asked curiously, eager to change the conversation topic. Gloin grinned proudly.

"Aye, it's my gift; I summon a giant axe, biggest you've ever seen! No one else in the world can lift it," he boasted, and Bilbo smiled.

"If you ask me, I reckon he's overcompensating for somethin'," Dwalin muttered around his bacon, and Bifur snorted with laughter into his juice.

Suddenly Ori stiffened, dropping his fork with a clatter against his plate. His small frame shook violently, and Nori quickly lunged to his feet.

"His sketchpad! Someone grab his sketchpad!" he exclaimed, as Dwalin upended the contents of Ori's satchel in a rush.

Bilbo stared in shock, as Nori grabbed his brother's spasming hand, forcing a pen into it. Dwalin shoved the pad beneath Ori's hand as he stilled. The younger teen's eyes rolled back into his head, white staring forward unseeingly.

His hand began to move systematically over the pad, sharp horizontal movements leaving a myriad of straight lines over the paper.

Bilbo shivered at the vacant stare opposite him, tearing his gaze away from his friend. The others at the table were glancing up every now and then but did not seem surprised. Dwalin and Nori wore similar expressions of hidden worry, and it occurred to Bilbo this was the first time he had seen Ori's older brother without a smirk.

"Ori's gift is really more of a curse," Bofur said glumly, and Bilbo looked back to the boy in front of him in sympathy.

"He started having these fits…we had no idea what the hell to do," Nori murmured, staring at his brother across the table. "They started on his 15th birthday, so we knew it had something to do with his gift, but we didn't…a full three hours he sat there, shaking and pale with his eyes rolled back in his head-" he broke off for a moment, swallowing thickly.

"He would eventually pass out, but when he came to he couldn't focus. It was like he was somewhere else…After a few days, we noticed his hand would shake the worst, like trying to grab something. Dwalin actually had the idea to give him a pen," Nori finished, and Bilbo glanced back at the paper.

The straight lines seemed to form a picture, and Bilbo stared at the clarity. It was still unfinished but he could see a figure clearly, almost like a photograph. The person looked almost familiar.

"What does he draw?" he asked after a moment, wrenching his eyes from the bizarre sketching. It was Dwalin who answered, voice gruff and eyebrows furrowed.

"The future."

Before Bilbo could think of a response, the bell rang loudly, sound amplified through the stone halls. Everyone but Dwalin, Nori and Ori climbed to their feet, some scoffing a last minute piece of bacon or downing their juice quickly.

Noticing the other's hesitance, Nori waved them on.

"He'll be done soon, we'll catch up," he said confidently, and Dwalin nodded to Thorin.

"I'll be ready for second period," he promised, and Thorin clapped a hand to his shoulder briefly, scooping up his own pack in a smooth movement a second later.

"What's happening second period?" Bilbo asked without thinking, flushing slightly at Dwalin's raised eyebrow.

"You'll see," Thorin said, cocky smirk in place. Bilbo stared at the older boy for a moment suspiciously before arms were looped through both of his own, a twin on either side.

"Good luck, you two," Fili and Kili called back over their shoulder in tandem, dragging Bilbo down the hall with them and missing the scowl on their uncle's face. Bofur jogged up to them, cramming his woolly hat on his head with a grin.

Stumbling along beside the twins, Bilbo huffed in annoyance.

"First match of the season, before you ask," Fili said with his customary grin. Bilbo stared at him in confusion.

"Uncle and Dwalin versus Thranduil and Bolg."

/

A/N: Hey guys! Still in the midst of my exam study (ugh) so updates won't come out much faster until i finish them all- maybe the 13th or something? Thought I'd add that this story is un-betaed so let me know if there are any stupid spelling errors or something. I'm always typing 'throin' instead of thorin and then laughing cos its so close to groin *mature adult i swear*

I'm over at AO3 too if that's more your flavour under xxemily92xx or just look up 'the gifted' :)


	4. The Match

**A/N **Hey guys- thanks so much for all the support! You guys are the best :D  
I don't often write fight scenes, but for this fic I'm gonna have to :P if anything could be better or you have any tips feel free to pass them on- I don't have a beta reader or anything so the more feedback and constructive crit the better.

Without further ado, Thorin vs Thrandy!  
(and i guess Bolg and Dwalin are there too...)

/

Bilbo, for perhaps the tenth time in as many minutes, stared at the clock hung on the back wall. A forlorn plastic thing, it looked comically out of place against the sleek marble, the outer white plastic yellowing slightly with age.

The thin black hand on the face ticked slower if possible, and Bilbo could have sworn it was mocking him.

Glaring at the device, the teenager shifted in his seat and attempted to at least _look_ like he was paying attention, though he continued to flick his pen to and fro in impatience.

All around him, Bilbo noticed other students doing the same, whispering among themselves and others ignoring the class altogether. He felt a pang of sympathy for the middle aged staff member (Bolin? Balin?)as he doggedly continued outlining various wars and skirmishes on the board.

Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, the man tapped a marker against the whiteboard with a sharp click, the sound attracting the class's attention once more.

"Now, who can give me the name of a war or battle that has occurred during the last 100 years? Anyone?" he prompted, and when none seemed forthcoming he pointed a marker at a student randomly.

"You. Name of a war. Go," he ordered, oddly bushy eyebrows furrowing.

From beside him, Bilbo could see Fili and Kili's identical smirks as they stared at the rapidly paling student in amusement.

Squaring his shoulders, the boy mumbled something inaudible. Frowning, Balin leaned forward, bushy eyebrows lowering further.

"Can't hear a word you're saying lad, try again," he said to the boy, and Bilbo felt a surge of pity for the flushing student. The twins snickered softly, and Bilbo frowned disapprovingly at the back of their heads.

"The…The Mordor Incident," he finally squeaked out, and Balin straightened with an approving nod.

Fili and Kili froze.

"Ah yes, the Mordor Incident, 15 years ago. Now, who can tell me…" The rest of the teacher's words faded into the background as Bilbo stared at the stockstill twins in concern.

Backs ramrod straight and faces pale and blank, both boys shared a long glance. Swallowing thickly, Fili pushed his chair back with a scrape, the grating sound echoing through the room.

Balin paused in his enthusiastic scribbling on the board as both twins grinned up at him, though Bilbo could see neither expression reached their eyes.

"Wasn't that the one with the guy who turned into a troll?" Fili asked, head tilted in thought.

"No, you're thinking of the battle of-"Balin began, before Kili cut him off.

"No! _Obviously _it was the one with the horde of summoned goblins."

"No again, that was Moria-"

"Now you're just being stupid Kee! It was the one with that one guy who did that thing-"

"That doesn't even-"

"_Oh!_ You mean _that _one, with the army."

Balin didn't bother saying anything further, as the twins continued to banter. Bilbo winced slightly in sympathy as the middle aged man began to pinch the bridge of his nose again.

In front of him, Bofur twisted slightly to meet Bilbo's gaze with a troubled expression.

Before either boy could do anything further, the bell rang with a shrill screech, the clang reverberating through the stone halls.

All at once students lunged for their books and bags, leaving the room as quickly as possible. Turning, Bilbo noticed with a start that both twins were already out the door.

Bofur nudged him on the shoulder as he passed, and the teen shook his head before following him into the corridor.

"What just happened?" he asked as the two made their way through the flood of students. The twins were nowhere in sight and Bilbo assumed they'd gone on ahead to the gymnasium.

"They don't like to talk about the Mordor Incident much, I don't know the full story but I think it has something to do with their Dad," Bofur murmured lowly, and Bilbo paused.

"Their dad?"

Bofur nodded. "Been missing 15 years, no one knows what happened to him. Assumed dead," he finished grimly.

Suddenly the episode in the classroom made a lot more sense.

"Oh…I had no idea…" he murmured sadly, and Bofur elbowed him with a smile.

"Oi, no time for that, we have a match to attend," he said cheerily, attempting to lift the mood. Despite himself, Bilbo felt a smile start to tug at the corners of his lips.

"So, explain it to me- I've never seen one before," he asked, and Bofur glanced at him in surprise.

"You must be from a normal family, I knew it! Gloin owes me his pudding," he said brightly, and Bilbo flinched.

"You…it doesn't bother you?"

Bofur blinked at him slowly, as if he were staring at a particularly dense child.

"No…why would it?"

Bilbo felt an odd tightness in his chest. All the time he had spent worrying…and for no reason. The only place he would be ridiculed would be…

_Home, _he thought grimly, swallowing past a lump in his throat as his father's face sprung to mind. The faces of those he'd called his friends, staring and muttering to each other as he and his father drove past, the dark tint of the windows hiding his drawn features.

Blinking at the harsh light of the sun as the two stepped out of the tall oak doors, Bilbo focused back on the present.

"Nevermind, not important," he muttered, waving a hand casually. Bofur rose an eyebrow, shrugging to himself as the two reached the large gymnasium.

"Basically, a match is 2 vs 2 battle of gifts. Every hit you land on an opposing Gifted gets you a point. Aim of the game is to defeat the other team in points. You have to hit each opposing Gifted twice before you can end the game, either by physically pushing at least one of them over the line at the end of the field or by trapping both of them at the same time," he explained, tugging off his woolly hat once they entered the gym.

"Trapping them?"

"You know, like tying them up or pinning them with a blade to the throat. Don't worry though- no one is ever injured badly," Bofur assured him hurriedly, noticing Bilbo's wide eyes.

The gym was a giant stone structure like the rest of the academy, with white marble flooring and a high ceiling with intricate carvings that looked almost like flowers littered along the walls and pillars.

The huge field in the center made the room unique, the expanse easily twice the size of the training room court. Similarly, rocks, steel, trees and what appeared to be a small river on one side filled the space.

"All the first and second years are here to watch," Ori said from behind them, and Bilbo started in surprise.

"Ori! You're alright now?"

The smaller teen nodded, waving off his concern. "Don't worry about it; happens all the time."

"I bet Uncle's loving all this attention," Kili said as Fili snickered, the two leaning against the railing on the edge of the arena. Noticing the others, the blonde quickly shuffled over to make room.

"Kick their asses!" Kili shrieked loudly, wide grin in place as Thorin and Dwalin stepped out and onto the arena from below them. Both wore what looked to Bilbo like racing suits, zipped up to their throats.

Clad in a tight royal blue, Thorin wore his hair in a high ponytail, his sleek black helmet tucked under one arm. Turning to smirk up at them, Bilbo felt his insides fill with butterflies as the older boy's blue gaze locked onto his own nervous emerald one.

"Good luck guys!" Ori called from beside him, making Bilbo jump and Thorin hurriedly glance away, scuffing his boot against the ground.

Dwalin muttered something in his ear and the 16 year old blanched, shoving the other boy in the shoulder as he laughed uproariously.

Dwalin wore a similar suit to Thorin, though his was completely black. Still grinning, he waved a hand up to them, nodding to Ori.

"Won't be needing it, but thanks anyway," he called out cockily, smirking at the two other students who had stepped onto the field.

A tall, slim boy with white-blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail sneered at them, crossing his green clad arms in disdain. Thorin glared heatedly back, and Bilbo could almost hear his teeth grinding.

"That one in the green is Thranduil," Bofur pointed out, perhaps a tad unnecessarily, Bilbo thought to himself.

"Last year Thranduil and Thorin were partnered together in a match against this kid called Smaug and Bolg, over there," he pointed to a figure beside Thranduil, his suit a dull grey without sleeves.

"It was the grand final of the season," Nori added, Bifur and Gloin beside him, "really close one too. Both sides had been hit like, four or five times I think so they were looking to end it. Anyway, at the last second Thranduil's attack went wide, leaving his flank exposed. Bolg aimed a hit but Thorin blocked it, which is what you do for your partner right? So that left him open to Smaug's fire attack, but he trusted Thranduil to cover him-"

"Only the asshole didn't," Fili interjected irritably.

"He saved himself and jumped out of the way, Thorin was hit from both sides. Ended up with a nasty burn to his shoulder too, since Bolg's attack tore his suit," Nori continued, frowning down at the arena.

"And then the tree shagger forfeited! Can you believe it?" Kili growled, glaring across the field.

"Tree shagger? That's…original," Bilbo mumbled, shaking his head in amusement. Kili gaped at him in exasperation.

"_That's_ what you took from the conversation?!"

Before either could reply, a loud siren blared. Both pairs on the field stepped onto a line at opposite ends of the arena, everyone donning their helmets with the exception of Bolg.

"What's wrong with that guy's suit? He doesn't have a helmet either," Bilbo said to Bofur, gesturing to the figure across the other side of the court.

"He doesn't need protection, a full suit and helmet would get in the way of his gift. You'll see," the teen added at Bilbo's confused expression.

A second siren blared in three quick bursts, and with that both teams began to move.

Bolg's skin rippled for a moment before becoming metallic, his entire body turning to steel. With a grin he smashed both fists together before racing forward. Thranduil hung back behind him, hands outstretched and head bowed for a moment.

Dwalin surged forward to meet Bolg, snarling as he threw a punch. Bolg caught his fists and the two grappled, locked in a battle of strength.

"Super strength, before you ask," Ori piped up, eyes never leaving the match.

"And Bolg can change his DNA to whatever substance he wants," Bofur added.

Bilbo simply stared in amazement as the two broke free of one another, circling and assessing the other's movements.

Thranduil snapped his head up suddenly, sweeping his arm towards Thorin at the opposite end of the field. Thick green vines the width of Bilbo's torso shot out of the ground, shooting toward the other teen.

Tree shagger made sense now.

Thorin didn't move, staring unflinchingly at the green tendrils barrelling toward him. Bilbo felt his heart leap to his throat as he gripped the cool metal railing in front of him tightly, knuckles turning white.

At the last second Thorin stamped his boot against the ground, grin visible beneath the clear visor of his helmet.

A solid slab of stone shot up from below, blocking the attack.

With a sharp kick, Thorin sent the metre thick slab hurtling toward Thranduil at startling speed, the latter using his vines to lift him above the rock.

"That's amazing!" Bilbo exclaimed, genuinely impressed.

Sharp spikes of rock sprung from the ground, launching toward the green clad figure at breakneck speed. Each time, Thranduil dodged, his vines and branches entwined around him as he was pulled left and right in evasion.

Thorin threw up rock shields constantly, blocking each attack the other managed to throw at him.

On the other side of the field, Dwalin gave a roar as he threw one of the court's boulders at Bolg who smashed through the centre of it, the rock crumbling to dust and fragments. Lurching forward through the dust cloud, Bolg landed a solid punch to Dwalin's jaw with a grunt.

A sharp burst of the siren went off, indicating a point.

Catching Bolg's fist in a quick movement, Dwalin threw the teen bodily through the air. Another burst went off, and Ori cheered.

Thorin and Thranduil barely glanced at their team mates, so focused on one another as vegetation and stone slammed together.

"Are you still sore about last year then?" Thranduil called, vines lifting him over a particularly vicious stone projectile.

Throwing his head back, the blonde's laugh rang out over the crash of their battle.

"I'll take that as a yes then, you always could hold a grudge Thorin."

Thorin snarled, hurling another wave of spikes shooting through the ground at his enemy.

"Shut your damn mouth!"

"I can see why you would be testy though; I heard it left a nasty scar," he taunted, flicking his wrist minutely. A thin vine crept behind the other teen, unnoticed as Thorin glared at his opponent in a rage.

"Uncle!" Fili and Kili cried out, as the vine inched closer. Thorin didn't seem to hear them, redoubling his efforts to hit the smirking blonde ahead of him.

"Stop talking you traitorous sack of-" Thorin was cut off as the vine slammed into his side, flinging him across the field and into the marble wall of the arena. A loud crash rang out and he crumpled, summoning a sphere of rock to surround him.

Another blast of the siren went off, and Bilbo leaned as far forward as he could against the railing.

"Is he alright?!" he asked worriedly, image of the older teen's body crumpling fresh in his mind.

"If he can still make a shield, he'll be ok," Gloin said from behind them, resting a hand on each of the twin's shoulders.

Thranduil sauntered forward, inspecting his nails in apparent boredom as his vines slammed against the ball of rock over and over.

The stone suddenly shattered with an ear splitting crack under the force of Thranduil's gift, and the boy grinned as the thick green tendrils shot into the sphere, breaking it from the inside.

"Thorin!" Dwalin cried out in shock, unable to do anything but watch as he struggled against Bolg, the two once more locked in a grapple.

A thick blanket of dust fell over the area, and Bilbo squinted in an attempt to make out a figure.

Growling, Dwalin pushed harder at Bolg. The teen sent a solid kick to his opponent's side, denting the steel of the boy's torso.

The siren blasted once more, as Bolg lurched out of the hold.

Staring at his body in surprise, he shifted once more, skin hardening and sparkling blindingly for a moment.

_Diamond,_ Bilbo realised in surprise.

Once more Bolg threw himself forward as the two continued wrestling against one another.

The dust finally settled, and Bilbo started in shock.

Thorin was not there.

Thranduil paused in confusion, hesitating as he glanced around the arena. The pause was enough for Thorin to burst from the ground behind him, a slab of rock slamming into the blonde's back.

Thranduil cried out in shock, his vines catching him before he collided with the outer wall.

Again, the siren sounded.

"Finish it!" Fili and Kili shouted as one, practically hanging over the railing in their excitement.

Dwalin suddenly broke off from his fight with Bolg, running toward his team mate with a grin. Glancing up, Thorin caught his eye and nodded.

"What the- oi!" Bolg called after him, clearly confused before his face darkened in anger. Snarling, the teen chased after Dwalin.

Thorin threw another slab toward Thranduil and slammed his boot against the ground. Easily dodging, the blonde side stepped the slab with a sneer.

A sneer that disappeared as Bolg slammed his fist into his team mate's face.

With a sweep of his hand, Thorin threw Bolg against the outer railing with a bang, over the line. Thranduil stared dumbly at him.

"Diamond is a rock, dumbass," Thorin called to the two, feral grin in place.

Three loud bursts of the siren went off as the students cheered, Dwalin throwing an arm around the teen's shoulders.

"Yes! Take that you tree shagging piece of shit!" Kili shouted over the arena, and Fili whistled shrilly with the crowd.

Tugging off his helmet and dropping it to his feet, Thorin turned toward them.

His face was smeared with dirt and sweat, framed by strands of black hair that had come loose during the match and huffing in exhaustion. But as he grinned up at them, blue eyes alight with triumph, Bilbo thought Thorin had never looked more attractive.

And then promptly found himself choking on his own saliva.

_Attractive?!_


	5. The Headmaster's Office

**A/N **Hey guys, sorry its late, hope you like it ^^ as always, let me know what you thought

/

Heart hammering wildly in his chest, Bilbo tore his gaze from the boy in the arena to the smooth marble beneath his feet, the unblemished white surface beneath his worn sneakers a comfort to his swirling thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, he ran an only slightly shaking hand through his curls and resisted (somehow) the urge to bang his head against something.

_Good job, as if being startlingly ignorant wasn't enough, you had to go and indulge your Took blood too!_

Scrubbing a hand dejectedly over his burning face, Bilbo almost cried out in surprise as a hand clapped him on the shoulder. Jerking his head up sharply, he willed away his flush as Bofur's tattered wool hat swam into view.

A small furrow had appeared between the boy's brows as he cocked his head to one side in concern.

"Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine, never better in fact!" Bilbo spluttered, taking a small step back. His heart picked up speed once more, the rushing in his ears almost drowning out the sound of the hundreds of students surrounding them. Swallowing thickly, he rubbed a hand against his chest absently.

In front of him, Bofur froze. Brown eyes widened, shifting from Bilbo's chest and following something unseen to the still grinning and utterly oblivious brunette in the arena below. A wide grin spread over the boy's features, and Bilbo found himself praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Yeah, I bet you are," the boy said teasingly, and Bilbo had the fleeting thought that if he flushed anymore he would probably pass out.

Which would probably not be so bad, he reasoned.

"Oi, whats up with Boggins?!" Kili called loudly from behind him, the unexpected volume sending his heart rate skyrocketing and his insides dropping. Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut as buzzing broke out over his body, dulling to a soft hum beneath his skin.

With a huff of annoyance, Bilbo opened his eyes to squint at the amused faces of his friends, their features shifting and ebbing in shades of grey.

"Naw, don't be like that Bilbo!" Fili said chirpily from his brother's side, his voice warping and muffling as if he were underwater.

All around him students shifted in an almost indistinguishable sea of grey, the crowd blurring and distorting together until it almost looked like one large cloud of smoke. The shrieks and laughter fell thickly on his ears, and Bilbo repressed a shiver.

The skin on the back of his neck began to prickle unpleasantly, and Bilbo raised a hand to rub at the spot as his insides shifted in discomfort. Uneasily, the teen turned to glance at the crowd behind him and sucked in a sharp breath of surprise.

Brilliant white light shone brightly from amidst the sea of grey, its brilliance leaving Bilbo wanting to rub his eyes.

_A man, _Bilbo realised, _it's a man…_

The man in question sat on a raised platform with the other staff members, his features sharp and clear, devoid of the wispy quality of the rest of the world. His dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, face drawn in a frown.

Turning his head, the man met Bilbo's shocked gaze with one of his own.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Bilbo breathed in deeply. Steadily, the prickling and buzzing over his skin faded as the suddenly clear sound of the crowd left his ears ringing. Opening his eyes, the teen's gaze flew over the staff seats. He saw no sign of the man at all.

Something must have shown on his face as Ori nudged his shoulder, brows furrowed in concern.

Blinking rapidly for a moment, Bilbo mentally shook himself and smiled with more confidence than he felt. After a beat, the concern faded from his friend's face, though Ori still seemed a little wary.

Before the boy could say anything further, he was swept up in an excited bear hug by Dwalin, the older boy easily lifting the younger into his arms in excitement. Ori gave a cry of shock before laughing brightly, and the twins made gagging noises at the scene.

Bilbo smiled brightly at the two, the expression feeling more real this time as he watched his friends laugh (and glare, in Nori's case), and promptly pushed all thoughts of the mystery man to the back of his mind. Bofur grinned widely at the two and Gloin clapped Dwalin on the back hard enough for him to stumble forward half a step. Bifur signed in a flurry of motion, looking almost manic, and Bilbo felt his smile widen.

Thorin came to a stop beside him after a moment, his dark blue clad arm barely brushing against Bilbo's own. Swallowing thickly, the younger teen willed away the flush that had sprung to his cheeks.

"Rock, huh?" he murmured, eyes never leaving the group in front of him for fear of what the other boy might see in them. Beside him, Thorin glanced down at auburn curls with a smile.

"Are you surprised?"

"I think it makes sense, you seem stubborn enough for rock," he added and Thorin snorted.

"Every rock or stone in my vicinity is like a…a whisper, I guess, at the back of my head. I can feel them and control them."

"That's how you don't get lost here, isn't it? The academy is made of marble…" he breathed, and Thorin blushed lightly at the look of amazement Bilbo turned to him with.

"I…-"

"Uncle!"

Thorin let out a grunt as both twins barrelled into him, grinning widely and letting out cheers. The commotion attracted the attention of the rest of the group, and before long the brunette found himself swarmed just as Dwalin had been.

Bilbo chuckled as he noticed the firm frown the older boy wore wavered slightly at the edges.

A throat cleared behind his shoulder, and with a start the teen spun around to find Gandalf smiling at him warmly.

"Good morning, Bilbo Baggins, I presume?" the old man said brightly, and Bilbo blinked up at him stupidly for a moment before his manners kicked in.

"Ah! Y-yes, sorry sir," he spluttered, and Gandalf held out a hand with a chuckle, grasping Bilbo's own in a surprisingly firm grip.

"You may refer to me simply as Gandalf. Now, I was wondering if I might have a word? In the headmaster's office?" he added.

"Yes, yes ofcourse but-"

"Excellent! Right this way," Gandalf said over the top of him, and Bilbo shot one last look at his oblivious friends before he was following the older man through the crowd and into the twists and turns of the academy halls.

As the two continued to walk through hall after hall, Gandalf humming a merry sounding tune as they went, he felt himself grow more nervous.

"Am I…am I in some sort of trouble?" he asked hesitantly, and Gandalf paused in his humming to throw a glance at the teen from over his shoulder.

"Have you done something wrong?"

"W-well no-"

"Then you have nothing to fear, my boy," the old man said cheerfully, resuming his humming and marching on ahead. Bilbo sighed, catching up to him.

Before long, tall mahogany doors stretched high above them, brushing the marble ceiling over their heads. Pulling one open, the thick wood swung open without a sound as Gandalf swept into the room. Bilbo followed quietly, staring up at the marble pillars and wide, spiral stairwell.

Eventually, they came to a smaller set of wooden doors trimmed with what appeared to be gold. Stepping through, Bilbo glanced around the large room in awe.

Thousands upon thousands of books lined the walls, from floor to ceiling and a fireplace crackled away warmly. A long, polished oak desk stood at the back of the room, and Gandalf gestured for Bilbo to take a seat.

Perching awkwardly on the edge of the seat, Bilbo clasped both hands in his lap uneasily. The leather office chair beneath him was soft, and had he not been so nervous Bilbo could envision himself sinking comfortably into it.

Rather than sit in the chair opposite Gandalf remained standing, still softly humming beneath his breath and staring at the marble wall in front of them. Movement to his left made Bilbo shift his gaze before jerking in surprise, barely catching himself from gasping dramatically.

The man Bilbo had seen this morning sunk into the chair on the other side of the table gracefully, nodding to Gandalf. From up close, Bilbo could see the man looked to be in his mid forties, the several lines marring his face making him seem more distinguished, rather than aged. His dark grey tailored suit mirrored the shade of his eyes and Bilbo supressed a shiver as the man stared at him.

"This, Mr Baggins, is Lord Elrond, headmaster and founder of the academy," Gandalf introduced, and Elrond inclined his head.

"Good morning Bilbo, thankyou for joining us-"

"How could you see me?" Bilbo blurted out, and almost clapped a hand over his mouth in horror. Elrond seemed thrown for a moment before Gandalf started laughing, shaking his head and clapping a hand to Bilbo's shoulder.

"Straight to the point, I see," the headmaster said with a soft smile, and Bilbo mumbled an apology that the man waved away.

"My gift is true sight," Elrond answered calmly, "I see all. Even glimpses of the future, at times."

"Like Ori?" he clarified, and the headmaster nodded.

"Similar, though my visions come to me as dreams. Now, would you mind telling me about your gift?" he prompted, and Bilbo straightened in his seat.

"My gift is invisibility, kinda simple really," he answered, and Elrond smiled.

"No gift is ever simple, Mr Baggins. What do you see?"

Bilbo paused, staring down at his hands. "I see grey- like all the colour fades away. Everything is all flowy, kinda like water?" he flushed, feeling foolish. Elrond gestured to continue, and Bilbo nodded.

"Everything gets kinda muffled, and my skin starts tingling."

"And when you saw me today, was I grey?" Elrond asked slowly, eyes never wavering from the boy in front of him. Bilbo shook his head, and the man's eyes slid closed, almost in resignation.

"You were a bright white."

Gandalf and Elrond exchanged a glance, and the elder man nodded.

"Bilbo, I believe you would benefit from one on one tutor sessions to better understand your gift. You may well need it," Gandalf added mysteriously, and Bilbo nodded, rising to his feet.

"After dinner, each Thursday, Gandalf will meet you in the training arena," the headmaster said, standing as well. Offering his hand, Bilbo took it, shaking politely with a nod.

"Uh…ok, thankyou?" he said awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve as he wandered past Gandalf and down the marble stairs.

When the muffled steps of the boy's sneakers faded Elrond turned, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily.

"It appears the time will be sooner than we thought, my friend," he said after a moment, and Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff in thought.

"Then he is the one?"

"It would seem so."

/

Making his way to the dining hall, Bilbo thought over the strange meeting yet again.

No matter how much he puzzled over it, the teen could make neither heads nor tails of the entire conversation. Elrond had almost seemed…like he knew what Bilbo was going to say?

Stepping past the various tables and up to the canteen, he let the various soft chatter of the hall wash over him. At this time of the day most students would be found elsewhere in the academy, having already had lunch the usual hour ago. Throwing a sandwich, bottle of juice and apple onto his tray, he began to navigate his way through the sparsely occupied tables.

Out of seemingly nowhere, someone's shoulder slammed painfully into his side, and Bilbo was thrown to the ground. His tray fell beside him with a clatter, the food and juice tumbling onto the floor.

Azog grinned down at him, hand outstretched as if to help him up as a hush fell over the hall. The pale boy's teeth almost looked pointed this close, and Bilbo tried not to shiver.

"Careful, you look like you might faint again," he said loudly, the silence broken only by the laughter of several nearby students.

Bilbo coloured and scooted backward with as much grace as he could muster (which wasn't much, admittedly), ignoring the outstretched hand and kneeling to pick up his lunch.

Reaching for the apple, Bilbo barely brushed it before Azog gave it a kick, the abused fruit skittering across the marble. He clenched his hand into a fist and rose to his feet, attempting to ignore the nervousness in the pit of his stomach.

"What do you want?" Bilbo asked quietly, refusing to rise to the bait.

Azog stepped forward, leaning into the smaller boy's space threateningly. Bilbo raised his chin in defiance.

"I'm stuck cleaning classrooms for the next week because of you," he growled, and Bilbo resolutely refused to give in to the twisting of his stomach, all his senses pushing him toward invisibility.

Suddenly, Azog was roughly shoved backwards and Bilbo felt himself pulled back gently a moment later. Glancing up, he realised with a start that Thorin now stood between them.

Across from them, Azog glared at Thorin, yellow eyes narrowed.

"This doesn't concern you Durin," he spat, and Bilbo saw the brunette square his shoulders.

"On the contrary, I think you'll find it does. I suggest you leave Bilbo alone, filth," Thorin growled out, and Azog took a step closer.

"And if I don't?"

Below them, the ground began to vibrate and Thorin clenched both hands into fists. Sensing an impending fight, Bilbo nudged the boy in front of him.

"Let's just go," he murmured, and Thorin stared at him for a moment, eyes churning with fury. "Please," he added, worrying his lip. To Bilbo's relief, the floor stopped shaking. Clenching his jaw, Thorin nodded and allowed himself to be pulled away hesitantly by the 15 year old.

Pausing, he glared over his shoulder at Azog.

"Come near him again, and I will have your head on a fucking spike."

Bilbo paled slightly at _that_ particular imagery, and continued to lead Thorin out the doors, students parting in front of them like the red sea.

As they slipped through the doors and into the hall, Bilbo could still feel the heated glare aimed at his back.

_That could have gone better…_


	6. The Recovery

The moment the door shut behind them Thorin spun Bilbo to face him with a hand on the boy's shoulder. The vast marble hall was empty, their soft breaths the only sound in an otherwise silent corridor. Blue eyes flicked over his form and Bilbo felt himself flush brightly, his earlier revelation stark in his mind.

A wave of shame swept over him, his insides twisting with it, and Bilbo stared down at his faded sneakers uneasily. If he were in a story, the teen was almost certain who the damsel in distress was.

Although, if he were the damsel, did that make Thorin…?

_No, stop it._

"Are you injured?" the older boy asked gruffly, dark eyes settling on his face. Bilbo shook his head mutely, and Thorin sighed, his hand leaving the smaller teen's shoulder to run through his hair. From this close Bilbo could see a handful of silver strands at each temple, and found himself wondering what could make a 16 year old go grey so early.

Bofur's words from earlier sprang unbidden in his mind, and Bilbo flinched.

…_missing 15 years, no one knows what happened to him. Assumed dead._

A lump formed in his throat and Bilbo hastily dropped his gaze to the safety of his shoes. The memory was a stark reminder of just how little he knew of the teen in front of him, of his family and friends and what they had been through.

"I-I'm sorry," he blurted out, and Thorin paused, staring down at him in question, "I should have done something…I just…" he trailed off uselessly, shame twisting in his belly.

Growing up in the shire (a small town where everyone knew everyone) he had never needed to deal with bullies, let alone gifted ones. Sure, there was the occasional Took or Brandybuck who thought it would be funny to steal his schoolbag for the day or the Sackvilles who he had often quarrelled with- certainly never anything like his confrontation with Azog.

And yet, Thorin had shown more courage in that one moment than Bilbo had in his life.

No hesitation.

Thorin said nothing for a long moment, before placing a hand on both Bilbo's shoulders. With a small squeak of surprise, the younger teen's gaze flicked up to meet warm blue.

"When I say this, I say it in the nicest way possible. You're an idiot."

Bilbo blinked up at him stupidly, and Thorin shook his head fondly.

"Didn't I tell you to stop apologising? Stop overthinking things for once," he punctuated this with a soft flick in the middle of the boy's forehead, letting out a snort of amusement at the responding pout.

Lips twitching at the edges, Thorin released him and turned toward the outer door at the end of the marble hall, a hand casually grazing the white wall.

"Come on, the others were looking for you," he said over his shoulder, walking resolutely ahead. Bilbo stared after him a moment before shaking his head with a wide smile, jogging to catch up.

And if his cheeks were just the slightest shade of pink, no one needed to know.

/

The following few weeks passed in much the same way, and before Bilbo knew it Thursday had arrived.

His classes had been nothing like what he was used to, even the non-gift related ones. Saruman, he had quickly learned, was not one to be trifled with and often gained amusement from obscure punishments or psychically flinging stationary at students who nodded off in his maths class.

English with Galadriel wasn't too bad, but somehow she always knew which students failed to complete their homework or weren't paying attention. Bilbo had a strong suspicion the beautiful teacher was a telepath, but no one seemed to know for certain.

Physical education with Beorn continued to be a source of embarrassment for the teen, as the man had recently begun nicknaming him 'little bunny', as he claimed Bilbo was as fierce as, well, a bunny.

The teen in question refused to find this as funny as the rest of his class.

He had found he rather enjoyed history, much to his friend's disbelief, and genuinely looked forward to these classes with Balin.

Gandalf's gift use class had quickly become a favourite among the students, despite the man's habit of smacking foolish pupils over the head with his staff. No one knew what his gift was, though Bilbo had heard the third years had a betting pool going.

Most classes, the older man stood at the back of the room, monitoring things with a sharp eye and a pipe in his mouth. Roughly half the class were convinced it was weed, and Bilbo rolled his eyes each time they debated this during lunch.

In the days following what had come to be called 'The Dining Hall Azog Thing' (Kili, as it turned out, was not particularly creative), Bilbo had barely seen Thorin. Arena fights were in full swing, and the tall teen's practice commitments often conflicted with normal dinner or lunch times.

Once or twice he had toyed with the idea of making time to see the elder Durin, but had always chickened out at the last moment. Besides, it was easy to lose himself in the company of the others and he found himself getting to know them all quite well.

Although, it didn't help that each time he glanced at the empty seat beside Dwalin, Bofur would shoot a smirk at him.

_Stupid Bofur and his stupid intuition…_

The sound of a throat clearing broke Bilbo from his musings, glancing to his left to find Gandalf casually leaning on his staff.

"Shall we try again?"

Bilbo nodded, slightly embarrassed he'd been caught day dreaming. With a sigh, the teen began to jog on the spot once more, probably for the tenth time. As his limbs began to ache, and his breathing became somewhat laboured Gandalf nodded to him.

Closing his eyes and breathing through his nose, Bilbo focused on lowering his rapidly pounding heartbeat.

"If you can forcibly lower your heartbeat, I believe you shall gain far more control," Gandalf explained after a minute or two, as Bilbo's pulse began to steady.

"And I won't go invisible by accident anymore, right?"

"For the most part, no. You will not go…invisible…unless you mean to do so," he replied, and Bilbo noticed his hesitation, furrow appearing between his eyebrows.

"Gandalf, is there something-"

"I think that should wrap things up!" the elder man cut in cheerfully, already turning away from the indignant student and striding towards the doors.

"W-what?" Bilbo spluttered, and Gandalf gave him a wave before all but fleeing, hurriedly making his way out the doors and into the dark academy beyond.

"Definitely weed," a familiar voice called out, and Bilbo glanced up as Kili and Fili walked into the room, Kili's words echoing from the marble walls.

"He is a little…eccentric, isn't he?" Bilbo murmured neutrally, sinking to the floor in exhaustion. Wiping sweat from his brow with a grimace, he laid on the cool stone floor with a sigh.

Fili poked him with his shoe, and Bilbo only had the energy to huff.

"Didn't realise your gift used so much energy," he said with a grin, as he continued to poke his friend's ribs.

"I didn't even use my gift," he grumbled, weakly swatting at the blonde's faded sneakers, "I spent an hour jogging on the spot repeatedly."

"How is that meant to help?" Kili asked curiously, flopping cross legged on the ground beside Bilbo's sprawled form.

"He thinks if I can lower my heart rate I won't have a mini panic attack and go invis."

"I guess I got off easy, didn't I?" Fili said smugly from above them, and the other two scowled.

"Smartass. Just because you have weapon manipulation," Bilbo grumbled, and Fili snickered.

The elder twin's gift meant he could expertly wield any melee weapon with the skill of a master. All the blonde needed to do was touch it, and the knowledge and control were already there.

"You should see the way he hovers at my practice sessions in P.E! Every time I miss he just smirks at me, the bastard," Kili growled, as his brother rolled his eyes.

"Which is practically never, you twat. All those years of archery actually came in handy," Fili shot back, and Kili aimed a mock kick at his legs.

"Shooting energy arrows is _so_ not the same as shooting normal ones!"

"Pfft, what's so difficult? Draw, aim, shoot."

"Well clearly I'm so skilled I make it look easy."

"It looks easy because it _is _easy," Fili taunted, and Kili threw himself at his brother with a snarl.

Laughing, Fili dodged and ran towards the door, Kili in hot pursuit. Not wanting to be left behind, Bilbo scrambled to his feet with a groan and jogged after the loud laughter and expletives.

"Oi! Slow down, you two!" he yelled, lungs burning once again. Spinning neatly, Fili side stepped his brother before catching him in a headlock, the resulting shouts and taunts bouncing loudly throughout the room.

Bilbo came to a stop in front of them, hands resting on his knees as he gasped for breath.

_Maybe I should have spent less time reading and more time…nah, reading wins, _he thought wryly, the flare of pain in his side a clear reminder of how unfit he was.

"Admit I'm Batman and I'll let you go," Fili grunted out, pinning his twin's flailing body with great difficulty.

"Never!"

"Admit it!"

"Calm down, Robin!" Kili shot back, face turning pink with exertion.

"Don't even-"

The scuff of fast footfalls echoed around the room from the hallway beyond, and all three paused, Fili dropping his brother unceremoniously to the ground.

Kili yelped in indignation but the others ignored him as whoever it was grew closer. By now the three could hear the sound of laboured breath, a steady huff beneath the constant squeak of sneakers on marble.

A hand slapped over the doorframe and Bilbo tensed, half contemplating using his gift. He knew he had no reason to be nervous, yet something just…

_Something doesn't feel right…_

Ori pushed through the doorframe, face red with exertion as he leant against the cold marble wall. Leaning his head back, the teen sighed in relief at the chilled stone.

"I've…been looking…everywhere…for…you guys," he gasped out, the sheen of sweat glistening on his brow leaving his unkempt hair damp with it.

Bilbo hovered in front of him in concern, wanting to help but knowing the boy needed some space to breathe. The twins stayed slightly behind them, glancing at each other in that way they had that meant some silent conversation was taking place.

"Are you alright, Ori?" Bilbo asked after a moment, and the other boy leaned forward, hands braced on his knees.

"You…you three need to get to the headmaster's office, like straightaway," he huffed, already walking towards the door again. Bilbo's eyes widened in surprise, the two Durins behind him having similar reactions.

"Why?" Fili asked, and Ori impatiently waved them over as he stepped into the hall outside. After a beat, the twins and Bilbo followed, the tension thick and cloying in the air.

"I don't know- Thorin should already be there, but Elrond said it was urgent."

"Elrond came and got you?" Kili asked incredulously. The headmaster was known to rarely leave his quarters and office, the only exception being school matches, and despite everything Bilbo felt his curiosity piqued.

"What? No of course not, I was already there when he got this message-"

"What were you doing in Elrond's office?" Fili piped up, and Ori huffed irritably.

"It doesn't matter- something about one of my drawings- but he got this message and his face just went white. I don't know what is happening, but I'm worried," he finished, teeth worrying his lower lip as the small group ascended the staircase outside the headmaster's office.

Staring at those gold trimmed doors once more, Bilbo felt a wave of nausea crash over him, dread settling like a lead weight in his belly. The tug to use his gift was tempting, but he forcibly ignored it.

Casting a glance at the twins behind him, Bilbo recognised the same feelings playing across their faces. With a breath, Bilbo nodded once to Ori in thanks before pushing open the doors.

Unlike last time Bilbo was here, the office was dimmed and cold, the faces of the occupants stressed and pinched. No fire crackled away in the corner, dull glowing embers leaving little of the warmth and light of the previous week.

Around the large mahogany desk sat Elrond and Gandalf, Thorin standing to the side with both arms crossed over his chest. His dark brows were drawn together in a stormy expression, and his back was rigidly straight. Seeing the others, his face cleared only slightly as he nodded to them.

Without a word, the three teens cautiously stepped into the room, pulling up a chair at Gandalf's nod to do so. Instinctively, Fili and Kili sat almost shoulder to shoulder and Thorin drifted over to stand behind them, wariness rolling off him in waves.

Bilbo flinched at the loud scrape of wood on marble as he pulled up a chair, roughly a metre to the right of the others. Kili rolled his eyes and tugged it closer until he was forced to sit right beside the other boy. A small smile sprang unbidden over Bilbo's lips at the gesture, one that was returned briefly.

All too soon the tension of earlier returned, settling over the group in a blanket of unease.

Thorin squeezed a hand on the back of Fili and Bilbo's chairs, a reassuring presence behind Kili's seat. Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh, the weariness of the sound almost bone deep.

Beside him, Gandalf looked as morose as Bilbo had ever seen him, the usual present twinkle in his eye all but gone.

_He looks old,_ Bilbo realised after a moment, as if the spark that lit up the older man had flickered too low. He swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat, almost flinching from the sandpaper quality of it.

"I am glad the four of you are here. It…is not good news I am afraid," Elrond started, clasping his hands on the desk in front of him.

"Just spit it out already," Thorin all but growled, knuckles white against the dark wood of Bilbo's chair. Elrond hesitated, sharing a heavy look with Gandalf before looking each of them in the eye.

"The bodies of Belladonna Baggins and Vili Durin were recovered this morning."

**A/N:** Hey guys sorry for the late update! As always let me know what you thought and thanks for all the support :)


	7. The Crash and Burn

It was a funny thing, Bilbo thought, watching one's world crash and burn.

For instance, one might assume that there would be feeling. Shock or perhaps anguish. That one would feel horror, sadness, grief or anger. That there would be _some_ form of reaction, some _spark_ that bursts to life or is smothered beneath the pain.

Not nothing, surely.

Bilbo sat frozen in the silence after Elrond's words. His heart beat was a deafening thrum in his ears, the only sound in an otherwise silent world.

_I should probably say something, isn't that what people do?_

His heart thrummed painfully, and he felt himself frown in annoyance. His chest burned and itched- why was his chest burning?

Dimly, a vague thought flitted through his mind, a gentle whisper urging him to breathe.

_Oh, how on earth could I forget that?_

And with that first stuttering gasp the world was flooded with shades of grey, swirling and distorting into faces and shapes. Muffled sounds reached his ears, barely a hum over the incessant pounding of his blood.

Elrond's brightly lit features stared intently at Bilbo, eyes filled with sorrow and lips pulled down in a frown. The man looked genuinely upset.

_My mother is dead. _

Sluggishly, Bilbo looked down at his hands trembling in his lap.

_They found her body._

Abruptly, the teen lurched to his feet, chair clattering and tipping precariously on two legs.

_She isn't coming back._

Spinning on his feet and ignoring the softened voices of the others, Bilbo ran.

Blindly he shoved open the doors, flying down the twisting marble staircase and into the lobby. The plants and busts that lined the walls passed him in a blur of grey, the sound of his sneakers slapping the stone floor a muted thump. His chest burned and his eyes stung, but still he kept running.

Three years. Three years of waiting, of stubbornly ignoring everyone. Of staring after a mop of auburn curls in a crowd, heart in his throat.

Three years of _waiting._

_Waiting for what? For this?_

Uncertain of where he was (yet quite certain he didn't care), Bilbo stumbled upon a small courtyard hidden in an alcove. The garden swayed and shifted, wisps of grey leaves and flowers ebbing and flowing like liquid around a small stone bench. Shaking, Bilbo collapsed to his knees beside it, the small seat reaching his breastbone.

Slumping forwards, the teen barely noticed the chill of the cold stone as he shook. The grass below him left the knees of his trousers damp, thin almost translucent blades coated in dew.

His insides writhed in pain, and he wrapped his arms around himself, resting his forehead against the stone. A sudden wave of nausea crashed over him, and the boy gagged at the acid biting at the back of his throat, barely smothering the urge to vomit. Trembling and shaking, he tucked his legs beneath him, body hunched over in a ball.

Bilbo did not cry.

He gasped out, wretched sounds he could not remember having made before, yet his face remained dry. He couldn't even cry at the death of his own mother.

_Maybe Dad was right, there must be something wrong with me,_ he thought bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Bilbo could not say how long he spent in that garden, back aching and throat burning. Minutes, hours…time seemed filtered, an irrelevant hum in the back of his head.

It didn't matter.

The ground seemed to tilt, just a little at first and then a lot. It took Bilbo a moment to realise he was swaying, a bone deep fatigue sinking into him.

And as the world flooded with colour, the sudden sounds of the academy a cacophony of noise, the teen slumped sideways, sprawling across the grass.

_Mum always hated silence,_ he thought wistfully, just as everything went black.

/

"_Ma, where are you going?" he asked groggily, auburn curls jutting up in disarray. Rubbing a hand over his face, it took Bilbo a second for his vision to clear, blurred with sleep as it was._

_Belladonna stood, one hand clutching a long trench coat and the other on the handle of the front door, a small suitcase at her feet and umbrella tucked under her arm. Her usually messy curls were pulled back into a rushed ponytail, strands of auburn caressing the sides of her face. In the dark of the hallway he saw her eyes widen, red rimmed._

_She looked like she had been crying._

_Biting her lip and looking as nervous as he had ever seen her, Belladonna lowered her hand from the door, coat and umbrella landing at her feet. Bilbo stepped forward, confusion chasing away the fogginess of his head._

_His mother sucked in a ragged breath, rushing forward to meet him in an embrace as she threw both small arms around him. His head didn't fit as easily beneath her chin as he remembered, the latest of his growth spurts to be blamed, and he pulled a face as she kissed the crown of his head as she often did when he was small. He was 12 now after all, far too old for coddling in his opinion._

"_Are you going to work again?" he asked after a moment, pulling back to see her face. She sniffed, emerald eyes glassy as she nodded, smile wavering slightly at the edges._

"_Yes, Mr. Trahald is waiting in a car out the front," she said brightly, her voice trembling only slightly. A hard knot of anxiety twisted Bilbo's insides, and he fought the urge to reach for her once more. _

_Belladonna often worked away from home, her job with the government sending her abroad for days at a time. She had never left in the dead of night before (three am if the small clock on the wall beside him was to be believed), and Bilbo felt something was definitely amiss._

"_Are you…are you coming back?" he asked, voice small and almost drowned out by the steady pattering of rain on the roof. The wind outside seemed to pick up, an almost mournful sound as it howled through the rafters of the old wooden house, and Bilbo shivered in his thin pyjamas._

_Belladonna's smile wobbled, and she swallowed thickly._

"_I…I really don't know, honey…"_

"_Then why are you going? Why don't you stay here, with us?" he demanded, and this time he did cling to her, fingers clutching the fabric of her blouse hem tightly. She ran a hand through his hair, pressing a light kiss to his temple._

"_Sometimes things aren't that easy. Sometimes, something or someone comes along that's worth everything- and if we don't fight for it, then who will?" she said softly, tilting his face up to look at her. Bilbo's vision swam, his mother's features blurring as the first tear slid down his face._

"_I don't know if I'll come back- but I know that if I don't go, there may be nothing to come back to. And that, my dear Bilbo, is worse than anything I can imagine."_

_Shaking once more, the boy buried his face into her blouse with a sob as she gently rocked him, stroking his hair and whispering reassurances._

_Bilbo…_

_Bilbo…_

"Bilbo!"

Bilbo sat bolt upright with a start, eyes wide and heart hammering in his chest. He groaned, hands clutching his head as the bright white light of the sickbay burned his eyes, spikes of pain shooting through his skull.

"Are you alright, lad? You seemed to be havin' a nightmare," a deep voice questioned, and Bilbo glanced to his left with a start.

Oin stood beside his bed, bushy eyebrows furrowed in what the teen could only guess was concern. Blinking rapidly, his eyes still stinging from the lights, Bilbo nodded. Hesitantly, he brought his hand to his cheek and flinched at the wetness there.

_Ah._

"I- I'm quite alright, thankyou. Uh, what happened?" he asked, wincing at the croakiness of his voice.

"A student found you passed out in one of the gardens; he carried you here himself. Looks like you overused your gift," Oin added, and Bilbi frowned in puzzlement.

"I-what?"

"Your gift is like a muscle- the more you use it, the stronger it gets, right?" The healer started, continuing at Bilbo's nod, "Thing is, just like a muscle you can overexert it too. You used your gift longer than you're used to and now you need to recharge."

As the man spoke he ran a glowing green hand over Bilbo's forehead, and the boy sighed in relief as the pain in his head lessened. Nodding to himself, Oin pulled away and grabbed a notepad at the edge of the bed, his pen making a quiet scratching sound in the almost silent room.

"How long was I out?"

"Hm?"

"How long?" he repeated, raising his voice a little more and flinching at the burning of his throat as a result.

"Ah, try not to be too loud there, laddie, rest your voice a bit. Two days," Oin responded, not looking up from his notepad. Bilbo's eyes widened in shock, and he slumped back into the crisp white pillows, the stiff sickbay sheets rustling as he flopped down.

"T-two days?!" he muttered incredulously, and Oin glanced up at him questioningly.

"Gotta stop mumblin' lad, I can barely hear ya," he berated, but Bilbo barely paid him any attention.

Two days had passed since he had heard the news about his mother…would there need to be a funeral? Did his father know? A wave of nausea came over him, and he breathed deeply in an effort to calm down.

Oh god, what about Fili and Kili?! He just left them! The father they never knew had just been found dead and Bilbo had selfishly fled, after all the three had done for him. God only knew how Thorin was taking it, and here he was worrying them further.

The heart monitor was beeping wildly by now, and Oin looked up with a start, notepad laying forgotten at the foot of the bed. Before he had the chance to say anything, another voice cut in from the doorway, this one achingly familiar to the teen.

"Bilbo, you need to calm down. Everything is all right," Bungo Baggins said calmly, and Bilbo's head swivelled to face him in shock.

"Father?!" he exclaimed, and the monitor seemed to beep louder if possible. His insides twisted and tugged before the sensation of falling crashed over him, the world awash in a sea of grey.

_Not good, not good, not good-_

The flowing figure of his father stumbled back a step, and Bilbo pressed his palms to his eyes in distress. He knew Bungo was disappointed that his son was a Gifted- disappointed being a gentle word for it- and Bilbo couldn't bear to see the look of disgust being shot at him.

Not again.

The shrill beeping of the monitor was a steady booping sound, muffled as it was, and Bilbo was glad for the quiet. Taking a deep breath, he focused on steadying his heartbeat and ignoring the pounding in his temples, his headache returning in full force upon using his gift.

The monitor gradually booped less and less before Bilbo flickered into existence once more, hands clasped over his lap and pointedly not lifting his head. Oin pressed a green hand to his face, and the pounding in his temples softened to a dull ache. Gently, the healer disconnected him from the monitor, the shrill flat line cutting off with the flick of a switch.

"Remember what I said earlier Bilbo; try not to use your gift. If you're feeling ok then you're free to go, but no stress and no classes, got it?" he finished, bushy eyebrows lowering in warning. Mutely, Bilbo nodded and Oin stepped back, nodding warily to Bungo on his way out of the room.

At the door, the man paused, turning back toward the teen.

"Oh, before I forget, you should probably thank that stuck up blonde kid…uh…" his face scrunched in an effort to recall, snapping his fingers impatiently.

"…Thranduil?" Bilbo ventured, and the healer nodded quickly.

"That's the one- Thranduil. He found you and brought you here, should probably thank him."

Ignoring Bilbo's shocked expression, and Bungo altogether, Oin slipped from the room.

As the wooden door swung shut, the room was plunged into silence once more. The air was thick with tension, and Bilbo tugged at the edge of the blanket beneath him nervously, staring at the loose white threads fixedly.

"Who is Thranduil?" The elder Baggins asked, his tone flat, and Bilbo shook his head with a sigh.

"No one, father. Just an upperclassman."

The man grunted slightly in reply, staring at the wooden door for a moment. He seemed older than Bilbo remembered, as if the past year had aged him a great deal, streaks of silver and grey peppered throughout his short hair.

Idly, he wondered what his mother would think of the two of them now.

"He is…uh, he is like you then?" Bungo asked gruffly from his place beside the door, referring in his way to Oin's gift and Bilbo nodded once more. The silence stretched on again, and Bilbo bit his lip nervously. One minute became two, until eventually he felt like he could barely take anymore.

"Are you here about…about…"

"Yes. Funeral arrangements are already under way," he assured him, voice calm and collected as always. Bilbo shook his head in disbelief, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

"Of course they are," he said wryly, and the other man frowned at him, stepping forward closer to the bed.

"What was that?"

Bilbo just shook his head, sliding off the hospital bed and padding barefoot across the room, determinedly not meeting his father's eyes.

"Nothing," he murmured, stepping into the bathroom to get changed.

As soon as the door swung closed behind him, Bilbo leaned back against the wood with a heavy sigh, head tilted up at the high marble ceiling. He felt tired and thin, like a piece of elastic that had been stretched too far for too long.

_Here's hoping I don't snap,_ he thought to himself, shaking his head and gathering his clothes.

**A/N: **Hey guys thanks for all the reviews and faves :D you guys are awesome, let me know how you felt about this one :)


	8. The Language of Flowers

**A/N: **Sooooooooo sorry for the late update guys! New beta reader now though so she'll keep me in line haha but on the plus side extra long chapter today. Thanks for all the support you guys are the best :)

(you should also make my day and send me a review since its my birthday ahah)

/

The walk back to the Beta dorm from the sickbay was a long one, but Bilbo couldn't bring himself to be anything but glad.

The cool night air was crisp, and he found himself inhaling it almost greedily, the chill of the breeze on his face refreshing. By now, the moon was well on its way into the sky, casting the surrounding corridor in an almost ethereal light. The gardens on either side of the open hall swayed, leaves whispering gently against his outstretched fingertips as he walked past.

His sneakers made small scuffing sounds as he walked, the worn rubber soles squeaking softly on the smooth marble, and unbidden Bilbo's mind began to wander.

He wondered about Ori- and why he was in the headmaster's office about his drawing. He had a feeling it was nothing good, and a sense of foreboding washed over him. Shaking his head resolutely, Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest with a shiver.

_The future._

Dwalin's earlier words drawled through his mind, and he shook his head again with a sigh. There was nothing he could do about it, after all, and he had plenty of other things to worry about.

The sound of rapid footfalls echoed down the corridor, the slap of shoes against the marble growing louder. Bilbo paused, staring up at the entrance of the hall where someone jogged through, almost barrelling clean into him.

"Thorin!" he exclaimed as the teen slid to a stop, breath coming in short huffs and body tensed. He looked up at Bilbo and froze, body rigid and cobalt eyes boring into confused emerald.

A moment passed, followed by another and before long the air became tense and heavy. A muscle ticked in Thorin's jaw as he continued staring, mouth pulled down into a firm scowl.

"Thorin…?" Bilbo asked uncertainly, and the brunette took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as if in preparation. The younger teen felt his insides twist with nervous energy and he shifted uncomfortably, dropping his eyes to the white and grey marble beneath their feet.

"_I'msosorryBilbo_," Thorin suddenly blurted out, and Bilbo's head shot up to stare at him in shock.

A deep furrow was entrenched between his brows, and his shoulders dropped hopelessly. Bilbo blinked at him in confusion for a moment, utterly thrown by the apology, and Thorin seemed to wilt.

"I just- we shouldn't have let you run off like that. I should have known better, I should have…dammit I don't know…" he mumbled, running a hand through his long hair in irritation, and Bilbo couldn't help but stare.

"I'm…Im no good at…with words or anything, but I just wanted you to know. After everything with…well you know, I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I- _we_ weren't there for you and I'm sorry you lost your mum…" he spluttered, growling in frustration each time he couldn't find the right words.

His voice rang with such sincerity and self-deprecation, Bilbo felt his breath catch in his chest. The dark blue eyes seemed to stare straight through him, swirling thickly with some emotion he couldn't name.

"I…" he mumbled uselessly, voice barley a whisper as he stared at the other boy. A cold breeze swept over them, the garden erupting into soft rustles and sighs as Bilbo felt himself shiver. Thorin took a step closer, face more open than Bilbo could remember having ever seen before, and rested a hand on the other's arm tentatively.

And suddenly it was too much.

"I-I'm fine, really!" Bilbo suddenly exclaimed, lips pulled into a bright smile. Shrugging off the other teen's hand carelessly, he retreated a few paces, missing the flash of confusion and hurt that flitted across Thorin's face.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'll be fine," he continued chirpily, backing away and stubbornly avoiding eye contact.

"Bilbo-" Thorin started, brows furrowed in bewilderment before he was cut off.

"Really, don't worry about it. I'll see you some time tomorrow!" Bilbo called back to him, spinning on his heel and jogging away down the hall, ignoring the sharp prickling weight at the back of his neck of the other's heavy stare.

Behind him, Thorin stood as silent and unmoving as the marble pillars around him. He felt rather than heard Bilbo continue jogging, each soft footfall on the stone ground a ripple at the back of his senses.

As the shock finally faded, the brunette let out a ragged breath, jaw clenched and body rigid. Around him the garden rustled and swayed in the wind, the occasional leaf swept up in the movement and skittering across the marble, dancing along his peripheral vision.

At the back of his mind Thorin felt the other boy's pace increase to a full blown run, the impact against the marble coming fast and hard. Almost without meaning to, the teen took a half step forward, instincts aching for him to follow. His heart and mind warred for a moment, a split second of indecision before common sense won out, freezing him mid step.

For a long time Thorin stood, body rigid and tense as the night steadily grew colder and the wind stronger, the brunette as silent and unaffected as the smooth rock below him.

On the opposite side of the academy, Bilbo slowed to a stop, breath coming in short bursts. His stomach twisted and roiled, guilt and shame leaving his insides writhing. Acid bit at the back of his throat, and the teen had to brace his hands against his knees for a moment to avoid being ill.

Flinching at the burn of a stitch flaring to life in his side, Bilbo straightened, taking in his surroundings. Without being aware of it, his feet had carried him through the small alcove and into the same garden he had stumbled to the previous night.

Bright blooms of orange and red grew through the trees and plants, with several smaller white and blue flowers scattered through the soft grass, the colours surprising the teen for a moment. His memories of the quiet plot, few as they were, were distorted by the sea of grey that was his gift, and the small flowers surrounding the low stone bench were a welcome addition.

A cluster of pink carnations grew almost out of sight, hidden behind the base of the seat, and Bilbo couldn't help but smile softly.

_A mother's love, how fitting…_

Slowly, he walked across to the small seat with a sigh, hand running through his mussed up curls tiredly. Dropping down onto the bench with a groan, Bilbo hung his head in his hands, closing his eyes. He just needed a second, needed to _breathe-_

"Can I help you?"

Bilbo jerked his head up in shock, almost falling clean off the cool stone beneath him. Thranduil raised an elegant eyebrow at the teen's silence, long, slender arms crossing over his chest.

"I do not like to repeat myself," he said curtly, and Bilbo scrambled for a second to respond.

"Oh! I'm so sorry- I didn't realize you were there," he said quickly, wincing as he stumbled over his own words and the other boy rolled his eyes.

"Obviously," Thranduil replied drily, casually inspecting his nails. Bilbo rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, feeling unbearably awkward as the other stared down his nose at him.

Oin's advice from earlier crept through his mind, and belatedly Bilbo realised he should probably thank the blonde, rather than stare nervously at him.

"Right, yes well, I…uh I wanted to thank you. For the other night," he hastily added, as the other teen fixed him with a bored look.

"You're welcome," Thranduil said after a pause, gently caressing the green stalk of a plant growing by his side. Bilbo stared in wonder as it shifted, almost as if it _enjoyed_ the attention, pushing its green leaves against pale fingertips.

"Uh…yes…well, I'd best be on my way then, I suppose…" he trailed off, pushing off the stone bench to his feet. The blonde ignored him, once more preoccupied with the vines and tall plants twisting throughout the edges of the garden.

A sliver of pink caught his eye, and Bilbo paused, staring down at the pink carnations at his feet. He knelt beside the flowers, gently brushing the back of his hand against a soft petal, the small bloom almost seeming to press closer to his skin.

"Carnations," Thranduil said flippantly, and Bilbo nodded, smiling down at the flowers.

"They were a favourite of my mother's. She used to fill the house with them," he added, warmth creeping into his tone, "She was always in the garden."

Thranduil just watched him wordlessly, sharp pale blue eyes measuring. Slowly, Bilbo turned away from the plants, rising to his feet to dust non-existent dirt from his pants with a nervous air, suddenly realising he had been rambling to someone he barely knew.

"I'm afraid my family aren't ones for gardening," Thranduil said suddenly, staring resolutely at the vine now, and Bilbo glanced at him in surprise. He had expected the other boy to ignore him, and so scrambled to reply.

"That's a shame, especially considering your gift," he said clumsily, realising too late that may have been the wrong thing to say as the blonde stiffened.

A semi uncomfortable pause ensued, but before Bilbo could find an excuse to leave, Thranduil turned to him.

"Tell me, how did you find this place?"

Bilbo blinked stupidly for a moment, the question seemingly out of nowhere, as he tilted his head back in thought.

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I suppose I just…happened upon it, really."

"Happened upon it…huh," the older boy said to himself, lips twitching at the edges in humour, before shaking his head slightly.

"You don't get too many visitors, I take it?" Bilbo asked after a moment, and the other shrugged.

"You could say that," he drawled, voice bored once more as he turned back to the twisting vines curling up beside him, the plants seeming to clamour for attention.

The smaller teen glanced back to the carnations, biting his lip in thought, before turning back to the blonde.

"Do you mind if I come back? It's just so…calm, I guess. I kinda need calm at the moment," he murmured, fingers tugging at the hem of his jumper. Thranduil stared at him a moment, before shrugging, turning back to the garden.

"Whatever, just don't bring any Durin's," he intoned, saying the name like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, and Bilbo wisely chose not to comment on it.

With a nod, Bilbo made his way to the exit of the plot, resting a hand against the smooth marble archway.

"Thanks again, Thranduil. Really," he added, calling back over his shoulder to the blonde as he slipped through the archway and into the chilled corridor beyond.

Thranduil glanced up, face thoughtful for a moment as his eyes slid to the pink flowers beside the bench.

His mind whirring, Bilbo slowly made his way down the hallways, the encounters of the night leaving his head spinning. Thoughts of Thorin, Thranduil and his father flitted through his mind, and the teen shook his head in an effort to clear it.

"Deal with it tomorrow," he mumbled to himself, almost like a mantra, as he scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly.

And so, by the time Bilbo reached his bed, the soft snores of his classmates the only sound in the darkened dorm, he had just enough energy to toe off his sneakers clumsily and fall face first onto the covers.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

/

A shrill beeping blared loudly through the room, and Bilbo shot up with a garbled cry.

"Ack! Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Ori said apologetically, clumsy fingers muting the alarm on his phone with several soft beeps.

Blearily, Bilbo waved a hand at him, stifling a yawn.

"S'ok," he mumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up. His back was a chorus of aches, muscles protesting as he stretched with a wince.

_Nope, never sleeping like that ever again,_ he decided with a grimace, rolling his shoulder joint experimentally.

"How are you feeling, Bilbo? I'm sorry for your loss," Ori murmured softly, eyes downcast, and Bilbo took a second to steel himself. Turning to the other teen, he smiled widely with a shrug.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. What time is it? Oh, I hope I haven't missed breakfast! So hungry I think I could go for seconds," he said brightly, rifling through his clothes quickly as Ori gaped at him.

"Are you…Are you feeling alright?" he asked after a beat, and Bilbo glanced at him curiously, buttoning up his white uniform shirt.

"…You know I was joking about second breakfast right?"

"Bilbo that's not what I-"

"Bilbo! You're awake!" Bofur exclaimed cheerily, cutting off Ori in his enthusiasm. As if realising the circumstances, he paused, face turning sober.

"Good morning Bofur- just on my way to breakfast. Most important meal of the day, right?" Bilbo said brightly, all but marching past the two and heading out of the dorm. Ori and Bofur shared a look of concern before jogging to catch up, Bilbo already ascending the marble stairs.

Smiling to himself, Bilbo passed several clusters of students in the halls, the white marble expanse alive with the sound of hushed conversations and whispers. As he sidestepped a group of female students, each giggling in an alarmingly high pitch, he cast a quick cursory glance down at himself. Once assured that no, they probably were not laughing at him, he tried catching a few snippets of conversation as he continued down the hall.

"-you met _him _yet?"

"Oh my god, are you serious?! Just wait until third period-"

"-and then he said I had beautiful eyes!"

Bilbo winced as the latest cluster of girls squealed loudly, and he hurriedly bustled past them. At his side, Ori rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, you'd think they'd be over it by now. He's been here a whole two days," he grumbled, and Bilbo glanced at him questioningly.

"Oh! You wouldn't know about-"

"Good morning, Bilbo! Good to see you're out and about again," Gandalf interjected in his usual cheerful manner, hand clapping the boy on the shoulder. The teen jumped slightly in surprise, twisting around to face the teacher.

Looking up at the elder man, Bilbo's face fell for a second, a crack in the bright façade as he was pulled back into the memory of their last conversation.

_The bodies of-_

Snapping his smile back into place, Bilbo turned to the teacher, subtly shrugging off the hand clasped over his shoulder. Gandalf seemed to look down at him shrewdly, his eyes shadowed slightly in concern.

"Oh, sorry Gandalf I didn't see you there! Feeling much better," he confirmed cheerfully, continuing on to the dining hall.

"Ah, Bilbo, my boy, might I borrow a moment of your time?" Gandalf called back, and Bilbo paused, glancing forlornly in the direction of breakfast and back again.

"We'll save some for ya," Bofur assured him, clapping him jovially on the back as he and Ori quickly bustled among the other students throughout the hall.

"Well, I _was _on my way to-"

"Splendid!" Gandalf exclaimed, gently steering Bilbo down the opposite direction.

_How does he do that?_ The teen thought to himself with a huff (because it was absolutely _not _a pout) as the older man guided him past groups of students and down another hall.

Rounding the corner, the pair came upon another set of tall mahogany doors, gilded with gold trimming along the edges. Smaller than the ones that lead to the headmaster's office, Bilbo thought they looked too similar to not be something related, perhaps a teacher's lounge or something.

"Now, due to that nasty over exertion of your gift, Oin has recommended to me we cease our lessons," Gandalf began, pausing outside the doors.

"He said I shouldn't use my gift," Bilbo agreed, suspicion rising as the twinkle in Gandalf's eye made a comeback.

"And you would be wise to listen. However, in order to have balance, one needs…?" he trailed off, and Bilbo sighed long sufferingly.

"A sound mind and a sound body," he recited in monotone, having heard the phrase numerous times during class.

"Precisely, which is why you will begin physical training with our new sparring instructor," Gandalf continued, rapping his knuckles on the thick wood. The thud against the mahogany echoed around the empty hall for a moment, before the doors swung open from the inside.

A man stood in the doorway, tall enough that Bilbo barely reached his shoulder. Looking to be in his early twenties, his hair was tied back into a low ponytail that barely brushed his shoulder blades, much shorter than most Gifted seemed to prefer. Clad in a tight fitting black cotton shirt, one could see that though he was slim, hard planes of muscle shifted beneath the fabric. His eyes were a bright blue, seeming to light up as the man smiled winningly down at him.

"Ah, who have we here?" he said sunnily, voice a shade lighter than the baritone Bilbo expected.

Gandalf gave him a tiny push forward, and Bilbo faltered before awkwardly stepping closer.

"Uh, erm, Bilbo Baggins," he murmured, and the man broke out into a grin, teeth a bright white.

"Well young Mr Baggins," the blonde placed his hand on Bilbo's head and ruffled his auburn curls with a hooked grin. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun together."

Gandalf looked on in amusement as Bilbo chuckled weakly, entirely unsure what he had gotten himself into.

"Bilbo, meet Frerin, your new sparring instructor."

**A/N: hey guys! Let me know what you thought of this one- things will be a bit more exciting now Frerin has been added to the mix! Thanks so much for all the support xx**

…**did I mention its my birthday? :D**


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